In the UK the 1960s saw the growth of satire boom, including the creation of The Establishment Club, which, amongst other things, gave British audiences their first taste of extreme American stand-up comedy from Lenny Bruce. In the 1970's the growth of stand-up comedy in the UK was fuelled by local working men's clubs, where the style of humour was of the smutty crude mother in law style, often with quite racist in content, and much of which would be considered unacceptable today. A breakthrough British TV show called The Comedians saw many of the club circuit comics, such as Stan Boardman, George Roper, Roy Walker, Tom O'Connor, Frank Carson, Jim Bowen, Charlie Williams, Mike Reid, Duggie Brown, Lenny Windsor, Colin Crompton, Ken Goodwin and Bernard Manning, becoming major stars based on stand-up comedy performances on this TV show.

In the early 1980's, with Britain going through an economic recession and the strong often unpopular leadership of it's first woman Prime Minister Margret Thatcher, came the emergence of 'alternative' comedy. Turning it's back on the style of the 70's comedians, it was a comedy perhaps characterized by more character-based, surreal, or absurd humour as opposed to observations of everyday life - non-gag-orientated but completely irreverent and often very anti establishment. Dawn French and Jennifer Saunders, Alexei Sayle, Ben Elton, Rik Mayall and Adrian Edmondson were the best known alternative stand-ups of the time.

In 1989, however, Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer more or less killed alternative comedy by proving that you didn't need to swear and be political and rude as an alternative to mother-in-law jokes and during the 90's, for all their foul-mouthed socialist fury, the alternative comedians of the early 1980s became part of the establishment.

So to the present, and it seems as though the British stand-up comedy scene has settled into a happy combination of alternative and more traditional styles of comedy. Encompassing the irreverent and mixing in gag based humour, observational comedy and political satire. All of which now find their niche within the mainstream. The United Kingdom continues its long and rich heritage of stand-up comedians, and continues to be considered the stand-up centre of the world, due to the ease with which a comic can make a living.





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The power of intention. We've all heard about that lately, right? Every guru on the planet is talking about the zero point field, and how quantum physics relates to metaphysics, and The Secret is really big lately. Hey, I love quantum physics, metaphysics, and I myself would dearly love to pull the winning lottery ticket out of the zero point field. I have no problem with the idea that we create our reality, except for those calamitous moments that I refuse to believe I did to myself. However, I do have proof that the power of intention actually does work.

It all started with a sign that says, "Please pick up your dog poop."

This sign is attached to a mailbox in a yard down the street and around the corner from where I live. This poor guy apparently has been battling dog poop for quite some time. He lives on a corner, and dog's love to grace his yard with their presence, if you know what I mean. But this guy apparently does not understand the laws of the universe and that we create our own reality. Having his sign state "please pick up your dog poop" simply tells the universe to give him more dog poop. And that's precisely what he is getting.

Let me illustrate the point. Not too long ago, I took Mooch for a walk. My dog never leaves anything in anyone's yard, ever. She's a good dog who goes potty in her own yard, and that's that. So, I'm walking along staring at the dusky sky, admiring the way the fading sunlight is turning the sky pink and orange, when suddenly the leash in my hand goes taut and I'm nearly jerked backward off my feet. I turn around to see what the heck is going on, and I'm absolutely shocked to see Mooch in the puppy hunch leaving some goodies in this guy's yard.

"ACK!" I screech. "Oh, my God, dog! What are you doing?"

Mind you, Mooch never goes potty in someone else's yard. I've had her forever, and I know this to be a law. Not only am I mortified to be caught standing next to a dog leaving goodies...well...anywhere...but I'm especially mortified at standing next to a dog leaving goodies next to a sign that says, "please pick up your dog poop." The worst part: I didn't have a doggy scoop, a baggy, not even a tissue. Nothing to use to clean up Mooch goodies.

I furtively glance around, hoping no one, especially the guy who owns the sign, is watching. Then as soon as Mooch is finished, I do what any human being would. I run. Like hell. Hey, I never said I was the epitome of moral perfection. I didn't want to get yelled at, okay?

Back home, I spent a few moments feeling guilty as hell. Okay, okay, honestly, I whined for half the night, until my husband told me to shut up already.

Fast forward, about a week later, I'm walking Mooch. Same route. We get to the guy's house with the sign, and again I'm staring up at the sky while Mooch trails along beside me, when all of a sudden, the leash sets like I just threw an anchor out, and I nearly get jerked off my feet backwards. My brain is going, 'no, it can't possibly be...not again...no way...she doesn't poop in other people's yard, never has, never will...except for that one time, and that was just a weird fluke that will never happen again.'

Meanwhile, I'm turning to look, and "Oh, my God, dog! Not again! What is up with you? Why here? What? Can you read the sign, is that it? You can read the sign, you know what it says, and you think this is funny?"

Again, I have no doggy scoop, no baggy, not even a tissue to clean up the Mooch goodies. As soon as I can, I give the leash a tug and...run. Like hell. Mooch just runs along beside me, grinning all the way home, and looking for all the world like she's laughing her tump off.

This time I didn't spend so much time feeling guilty. This time I spent too much time trying to figure the odds on my dog doing goodies in someone else's yard when she never has before, and why, of all places, THAT yard with the sign on the mailbox. It's just too weird, too incredible, and too much of a coincidence to ignore.

After a few days, I get over it and get on with my life. Until...yep, you guessed it...I'm walking Mooch, the leash goes taut, I get jerked backwards, and there is my dog, angelic being that she is, pooping on the guy's lawn where the sign says, "please pick up your dog poop."

This time, when I run like hell, I tell Mooch, "Alright, knucklehead, I'm not walking you past that yard anymore, ever. Got it? Good. It'll be a cold day in hell when I walk you even remotely anywhere in that direction. And if you so much as pass wind during a walk, you'll lose your privileges, dog! Understood?"

"There is no way, NO WAY, that is a coincidence. Three times in less than two weeks? You did that on purpose. I don't know how, I don't know why, but you did that on purpose."

Mooch just grins back at me as if to say, "Yeah, mom. Cool, huh?"

"Not only do I have to spell out words to prevent her from understanding me, now the dog can read. How? How I ask you?" I shout to the universe. Still running.

This does, however, illustrate a unique point. The power of intention really does work. Maybe a little too well. At the very least, it reminds me that if I'm asking the universe for something, I better be pretty darn specific with my request.

Maybe that poor guy should change his sign to read, "My yard is perfectly clean and free of dog poop." Or maybe he just shouldn't mention poop at all.




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Now that the government has bailed out the "Hole In The Wall Street Gang", it's time to get down more important issues. Like, "Bring Your Daughter To Work For The Day" - good idea, or bad idea? I say, "Good idea." That way your daughter can see all the exciting opportunities there are waiting for her in the wonderful world of business, plus, she'll get a better understanding how Mommy has to deal with so many buffoons, eight hours a day, five days a week, fifty weeks a year, and why she doesn't really care, when she gets home, to hear how little brother Timmy gave daughter Jessica's Barbie doll a buzz-cut.

So, yes, the concept is a good one, but as with all good ideas, there must be some concessions. For instance, not every branch of the business world needs Mommy to show daughter how the operation works.

Parent: Okay, honey, this is Mommy's office and this is a report that mommy has been working on for six months. I'm going to let you run it through the copy machine for me. Here you go. And this is the rest of the office. Any questions?

Daughter: Just one. Why does your copy machine shred the paper into long strips like that?

See what I mean? Some restrictions should apply. I believe men are also encouraged to bring their daughters to work. Once again, not a good idea in all circumstances.

Parent: Okay, honey, this is where daddy works at the "Let You Down Easy Funeral Home." Here at "Let You Down Easy" we like to treat the deceased with respect. You know, show them the same dignity and reverence they deserved when they were alive. Any questions?

Daughter: Just one. Can I play jacks on this old blue guy's chest?

Again, let's be a little more cautious when we dream up these days of interest.

Of course, not all daughters had that far to go to see where their parents work.

Parent: Okay, honey, this is the office that I work out of. As you can see, the office is not oval as the name of it applies. But, this is where I meet with foreign dignitaries and celebrities from the world of entertainment and sports. I also create and help develop existing ideas, foreign and domestic, to make this country the greatest country in the world. Any questions?

Daughter: Just one. If this is the office you work out of, which office does Daddy work out of, Mommy?

Now, at the risk of sounding sexist, I think the day should also include bringing sons to work as well as daughters. However, let's remember that as in the above scenarios, some restrictions apply and batteries are not included.

Parent: Okay, honey, this is where Mommy works in this big department store. Any questions?

Son: Just one. Do I have to have a Maybelline makeover?

Parent: Be quiet and don't move while Mommy applies the foundation.

In conclusion, I would just like to remind people who think up these ideas of creating special days like this, you're on the right track and I know I'll be looking forward to that day in June when we celebrate, "Bring Your Chia Pet To Work For The Day." Other days of interest may include, "Take A Convenience Store Manager To Literacy Class Day," "Talk Back To Your Boss Without Repercussion Day," and my personal favorite, "Take A Person Who Cuts You Off And Blow Out Their Tires Day." I also look forward to the day I can bring my daughter to work.

Me: Okay, honey, this is what I do. I write a column by using other people's ideas and take them to the limits of absurdity. Any questions?




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