High Plains Forever

Or at least a few more years!

An orthopedic surgeon gave my left-knee the go-ahead, yesterday. Most of the cartilage is gone, an MRI revealed, but I’m still good to go. As the doctor explained it, cartilage just kind of sits there, between your bones, and as you age, occasionally, some of it can detach, especially if you’re a washed-up athlete who can’t let it go.

Like your boy, ACH!

I pictured an abandoned warehouse, lousy with exposed asbestos. A sudden draft, an anxious moment, then a massive swath of chalky poison sloughs off and crashes to the ground, as terrified pigeons hurdle toward escape. 

Cut to me collapsing on an indoor soccer field.

Because those are the moments when the pain is acute, he explained. Now, suddenly, it’s bone-on-bone. 44-year-old patella clacking away against 44-year-old femur. Although I suppose they’re both damn near 45, if you count the time spent growing bone in the womb, but I never do, and I can tell my mother is resentful.

I asked the doc what to do. He said he could go in there and laser off the remaining cartilage, so my knee could just get on with it, and set about adjusting to its new truth.

What else you got, I asked.

He said he could remove some cartilage, grow more of it in a lab, flip my kneecap open, and pump it full of the new cartilage.

Noting that I was now vomiting into a trashcan, he presented a third alternative: I could also just see how it feels. If an activity is giving me pain, stop doing that activity. Then maybe rest up and try again.

I asked him if I should stop playing soccer in my beer league on Wednesday nights. He slapped me across the face. To deprive the world of that would do more harm than good, he shouted. And as a doctor he had sworn an oath to do no harm.

“I think you just have to go out there and live your life,” he said. “Do what you can do, and if something hurts, stop doing it. If it doesn’t, keep going.”

My head went immediately to the High Plains Comedy Festival, the little indie comedy festival that could.

I started High Plains in 2012. Prior to that, I had been invited to perform at the now defunct Bridgetown Comedy Festival, in Portland, Oregon; it was a seminal moment in my comedy journey. I met so many amazing comics there, big names and small; I snagged a real deal LA comedy manager! I felt validated, and seen, included in this incredible community of thoughtful, intelligent, funny-ass comedians.

But more than anything, I came away from that festival thinking Denver needed something exactly like it. I wanted to cast the comedy spotlight once a year onto my city, a comedy scene that I always felt was as good as any in the country, outside of New York and LA, of course.

So I did.

And now it’s twelve years later.

Running a comedy festival is kind of a thankless task. During the event, and immediately after, people could not be more lovely, showering the many folks responsible for pulling the festival together with the praise they so richly deserve. Which is correct. That’s the appropriate amount of appreciation. No dick-joke fest deserves backslaps 365.

But the rest of the time it’s just you kind of silently working on the fest, in the shadows. And the shadows blow. They’re dark, and cold, and full of weirdos.

It always feels strange asking your talented friends to take a pay cut to come party in Denver in September. It’s not fun talking to agents and managers. It sucks hitting up companies to try to give you money. None of these things are why I got into stand-up comedy. I often wonder why I still do them. Denver is an established comedy town. Comedy Works did that long before my little festival, but the scene is huge now, tons of indie showcases, indie clubs. The comedy light is often cast upon the Mile High City, regardless of some annual festival.

Bridgetown folded after ten years, a remarkable, influential run, and I remember when they decided to close up shop, I thought, yeah, I totally get it. Ten is a lot. I swore then to try to last as long as Bridgetown, and then we’d see.

Going into this year, year eleven, I thought maybe this would be the last High Plains. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. I just thought I’d make a surprise announcement at the after-party on the last night, and that would be that.

Boom. Fest done. Off we go into the night.

As we prepared for the festival, I could tell that my partner in the festival, Karen, the most professional co-producer one could ever ask for, a workhorse whose efforts dwarf my own, was feeling similarly burned out. I’m not going to spill her tea, but Karen had a rough fucking year. And all the work it takes getting the High Plains train out of the station was wearing on her too. I told her how I was feeling. She said she was kind of feeling the same way, and we both agreed to just get through this year’s festival, then reexamine things.

Which was smart of us.

Because then the festival started. And the most remarkable thing happened. It’s wild that I still consider it remarkable because it happens every time, yet still, it always takes me by surprise. High Plains fucking ruled. 100 comics descended on Denver, friends from every corner of the country – and Canada! – and just like that, for three days, Denver’s South Broadway turned into the comedy place to be.

I laughed harder than I had in months. I caught up with dear friends and made new ones. I watched comedians race each other in Wash Park, watched my two sons sit in on my live podcast and sing the theme song; I saw the Fine Gentleman make out with one another, I can’t unsee it; I performed an entire set in Spanish, in front of a Latin audience, and I didn’t eat shit! We partied till dawn. Well, some people did. I left at 2 a.m., and even that was way too late. Our staff clicked together like they always do. Our volunteers rolled up their sleeves and just got it done. The Liquid Death and Fat Tire flowed like…Liquid Death and Fat Tire, and everyone, by all accounts, had a ball.

High Plains came and went, and it was like some glorious magic trick: I wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but I was delighted. By night two I was scolding myself. You dumb fuck, I thought. You love this. You love this every time. Complain all you want; lament the days your eyeballs literally hurt from staring at spreadsheets like woe-is-me, and then shut up already. Because you’re lucky to be doing this, and you should run this fucker till the wheels fall off.

Can you tell I really love the fest? You can because I swear whenever I show love. My wife says it’s, “concerning.”

I ran into Karen somewhere in the middle of the fest, and we didn’t even have to voice what we were feeling. We just kind of looked at each other and laughed.

Yeah. Let’s keep doing this. Duh.

So, keep doing this we shall! For as long as you’ll have us, Denver.

We’re going to listen to my orthopedic surgeon and do what we can do, bone on bone, no cartilage. If starts to hurt, we’ll stop doing it. And if it doesn’t, we’ll keep going. And that’s really all anyone can ask of anyone.

Besides, worst case scenario, doc says he can just replace the entire kneecap in fifteen years.

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October Shows!

I’m in Milwaukee as I type this so if you happened to see me on October 1st at the Milwaukee Comedy Festival, good for you, and thank you!

I’m doing a new show with my bud, Rory Scovel, called, “Adam and Rory Talk Through the Entire Movie (The Show). We’re going to make this a regular thing, but this is the first one and tix are just about sold out so hop on it! That one is on…

October 7 - Denver - DUDEIDK - Tix

Then a ripper Grawlix with Mandy Kay, Derek Sheen, and Brooks Wheelan.

October 26 - Denver - Grawlix - Tix

Then, just a heads up about a November show, AND THIS IS WHY IT PAYS TO SUBSCRIBE TO THE SUBSTACK, I’m doing my one-man show at the Buntport in Denver. These usually sell out so snag tix now before I tell anyone!

November 29 - Denver - Happy Place - Tix

The Monthly Clip

Here it is, the greatest joke ever told.

God damn, great joke, Adam. Way to go.

Before you go, follow on the socials!

Really appreciate you all reading. Some big news coming soon! Stay tuned!