REPOST: Creating A Man: A Tribute to My Grandfather

Creating A Man - A Tribute To My Grandfather (11/17/09) 

(UPDATE: He recovered from this completely and is still teaching life lessons in 2016! Happy Fathers Day, Gramps!)

Every once in a while I am completely overwhelmed by emotion. More often than not I turn to writing when I find myself in that place. 

As a child, I was not Dana Jay Bein. I was not a comedian. I was Dana Bein. I was shy. I was scared. I was often alone. I was in my shell.
In school, I studied hard so that I wouldn't let people down. I worried about the consequences of my mistakes so much that I refused to make them. Authority terrified me. Teachers, cops, parents of friends, librarians even... all triggered my nerves and my reclusivity. Talk to strangers? NEVER!?! 
Kiss a girl? Holy horror, no! Forget my homework? That would be the end of the world. Literally.

Thinking back, I have a hard time pinpointing when I turned inside out but I know exactly who supported it most consistently. 

Grampa has always been an advocate of something. Learning French, having a beer, playing football, befriending Jesus, pulling off your thumb... they are all in his repertoire. Whether or not his advocacy affects your beliefs, his passion influences your respect. Even as he struggles in the hospital bed; his charm and warmth is magical. 

Grampa taught me how to shave, how to drive, how to save money, how to do calculus, how to be a real Patriots fan and, most remarkably, how to stand up for myself.
He believed in me before I did. His faith in me built my faith in me. 

Today, I, Dana Jay Bein, live an amazing, happy, extroverted life thanks to the influence of my Grandfather. As I wonder aloud what will come, I owe infinite thanks to this beautiful, generous, intelligent and humble man. He has always been there for me. He nursed me through my knee rehab. He came to my soccer games. He spotted me money when I was broke. He tried to set me up with Vietnamese immigrant girls when I was a prudish virgin. He called the coach to get me another shot at the JV baseball team. He introduced me to Boston - the city I love so much today - with trips to the aquarium and the science museum as a kid. He taught me forgiveness. He sang me many an Irish lullaby. He peer pressured me to drink more than my friends. He built me a coffin on Halloween. He inspired my love of pancakes. He taught me how to do cryptograms. The list goes on and on. As I go on, so will he.
He will always be a major part of who I am. 

I love you, Grampa, and I love life because of you. 
I want everyone to know that you are behind my every smile. 
If anything, you are proof that God exists. Amen.

Listening Is Love

Sometimes I catch myself not being present in a conversation.
I'm easily distracted and that's frustrating. Ideal conversation helps build relationships.
If I'm not listening, I'm not doing my part. I'm not invested. I'm hanging my conversation partner out to dry. I'm not showing the conversation the love it deserves, the love it requires.

Conversation is a dying art. Most of us don't want it anymore.
Our minds are made up. Everything is black or white. Right or wrong. Left or right.
Extremes.

When we fall into extremes, we're easier separated.
We don't care to listen to the other side because we disagree and that's the end of it.
To agree to disagree means this conversation is over. Then, we walk away.
Disagreeing is uncomfortable, possibly infuriating.
Sometimes disagreeing leads to the end of a friendship. Or to the end of a marriage.
Or worse, to being unfriended on Facebook.

I challenge myself not only to stay present in conversations but to stay present with people.
As a guy with a short attention span, it can be really difficult to stay present with people, let alone people I disagree with. A person isn't just a series of opinions. A person is a story.
That story informs those opinions and subsequent emotions. We all have a story.
We want our story heard. We want our story validated.
If we know we want to be validated, how can we be so quick to invalidate someone else's story?

Mind you, I'm talking about disagreements. I'm not talking about human rights violations.
Obviously, we should address those differently. If certain actions invalidate people's rights to safety and livelihood and freedom, maybe we'll categorize those actions as 'not fucking OK'.

We're less powerful divided than we are as a whole.
We build less and we break more. We compromise less and point fingers more.
We're easier controlled in the extremes. Extremists don't typically want conversation.
They prefer validation and, therefore, further isolation.
Extremists tend to be emotional first, mindful second.
Extremists don't want you to hear or, worse, validate the other stories.

I believe we should listen to each other's story. I believe it's why we're here. To share stories.
To learn from one another. To listen to one another. To build together. To conquer differences with love. I know not everyone wants to share but I'm always curious why they don't.
I believe when you open yourself to the world, the world opens itself to you.
In that world is everything you'll ever need. Don't be ashamed of your story. Embrace that shit.
Wear it like a T-shirt with a message. The message is: My story is important.

Here's the twist: the best way to share that message is by receiving someone else's.
Validate someone else's story. Listen. Embrace the uniquenesses and the differences and the obtuse angles and the cross references and the 'holy shit, how did you get through thats?'.
By validating, you will find validation. By being unselfish, you, in turn, are being selfish.

But are you?
We are all one people. We are all one light.
Listen to yourself.

Love yourself, take care of each other and follow your fucking dreams.

Western Masochist is HERE!

Western Masochist is finally here. Thank you for your patience and for paying attention to the nonsense I create. I couldn't do this without you. I'm grateful that you've built me to this point in my career and I'm excited to share this album with you all. 

Click here to stream or download the video version for $10 

Click here to download the audio version for $10

Love yourself, take care of each other and follow your fucking dreams. #djblove 

#617PDA #FreeHugsForAll

A few nights back, I was drinking a porter at Bukowski Tavern and feeling really grateful for the work that bartenders do.

Bartenders have kegs of beer. They tap those kegs. Then, they pour beer from those kegs into glasses and serve them to people of all walks of life.

I like beer. But do you know what I like more than beer? LOVE. I love love.

A thought struck me.

We are all individual kegs of love. Some of us pour our love freely and serve it regularly but many of us are untapped love. Love is certainly subjective. However subjective, though, it may be, love is often overcomplicated by societal norms. For example, why don't we show regular love to strangers?
Is there a good reason? Are we too scared to be that vulnerable? Are we too caught up in ourselves to care? Are we too busy to notice the people around us on a daily basis? Do we even know how to communicate love to strangers?

My idea is to attempt simplify that communication process.
Mind you, this idea can't work for everyone. In an ideal world, it could. I know as well as anyone else that the world isn't black and white. There's a lot of gray area. Some people love their space and want strangers to leave them the fuck alone. I get that. I respect that. There is literally nothing wrong with that.

My idea played out like this: I wanted to give people the opportunity to tap their own love while also tapping a communal love that exists in the light underneath all of us. So to simplify: FREE HUGS!

Giving out free hugs is NOT an original idea, nor is bartending. I'm fully aware of that.
However, I'd love the idea of being a server of love. A lightning rod for community. So, I'm dedicated to making #617PDA (Boston Public Displays of Affection) a regular occurrence.
Inspired by the incredible November Project (thanks Brogan and Bojan!), I want to create a love movement in greater Boston. I want to create a flow of positivity that you can rely on. I want to serve Boston love as much as possible.

If you want to be a part of this, hit me up. It's going to be free. It's going to be fun. You won't be able to stop smiling. Your heart will grow 3 times its size.

I did a test run today. In less than 5 hours, I hugged over 100 people. I met Cambridge City Counselor Jan Devereux. Rory and Megan from Live Alive in Central Square joined me for a picture and gave me a Love Alive smoothie. Boston Police officers gave me a group hug. A wonderful gaggle of kindergarteners smothered me at Park Street. My man Steve Furqueron joined me for the Back Bay to Park Street leg of the mission.

Let me tell you something. This feels good. I want you to feel this way.
You deserve it.

Let's spread some free love. Keep an eye on #617PDA

Thanks for reading.

Sending #djblove and #FreeHugsForAll

DJB

MY ALBUM DROPS ON VALENTINES DAY! #DJBLIVE #WESTERNMASOCHIST

If you've seen me anytime in the last couple of weeks, you might have noticed that I've been riding the lighting. I'm antsy with positivity. I'm giddy with life.

About a year and a half ago, Jeremiah Jordan asked me when I was going to do my first stand up album. I told him that I didn't know and that I was probably going to wait until someone asked me to.
I'm paraphrasing but he said something along the lines of "I'm asking you to. Let's do it."

It had never dawned on me that I could just take a big step like this on my own.
Christ, I guess I've got the resources and the material. Why not? And there I went.
I was half way to becoming a true Western Masochist.

I contacted management at the beautiful Majestic Theater in West Springfield (my home town) and they were extremely accommodating. We scheduled two shows on September 29th and we recorded both of them. What resulted is an hour long album / special which will be available for full video download through Vimeo Pro and a modified audio version of the special which will be available for download on many audio platforms. The album drops on Valentines Day. I think that's appropriate for the masochists out there. Each version of the album will be $10. You'll also be able to buy individual audio tracks for 99 cents.

I'll be teasing and promoting the album for the next two weeks before its release.
In the meantime, I have to share overwhelming gratitude to the people who helped make this happen.

Jeremiah Jordan is an incredible friend and the owner of Clyde Media Productions.
Without his push, his expertise and his undying support of his friends in entertainment, Western Masochist doesn't happen. He was the direct catalyst for this project. Everyone needs a shove like Jeremiah in their life. I'm happy he shoved me. While we're talking about him, if you watch the video and wonder how it looks so professional, Jeremiah and Clyde Media are how it looks so professional. Check out Clyde Media's website for some of the other amazing projects they produced.

Steve Sarro is a remarkable artist, musician and composer. He's an extremely talented music director at ImprovBoston and an absolute wonder of a human being.
He mastered the audio on both the audio and video versions of the album.
If you're wondering why it sounds amazing, that's on Steve.

Calvin Swaim, unbeknownst to me prior, was contacted by Jeremiah to create the intro and outro graphics for the video download. Calvin and I did some improv and theater together about 10 years ago at ImprovBoston and now he's kicking ass down in NYC. I was blown away by how much I loved the original graphics he made.

Tristan Tash is my best friend. He's also the deviant behind Acid Zoe, an electronic music project born in Springfield, MA. The tune you hear behind Calvin's graphic is an Acid Zoe original. Many thanks to T for his musical contribution.

The album cover is a picture of me when I was young trying to cheerlead. It was taken in Cape Cod in 1984 or '85. Boston comedian Justin P. Drew told me that's the picture I needed to go with and he was spot on. Western MA comedian Julie Waggoner discovered the perfect font and we landed on the cover.

I want to thank the Majestic Theater staff for believing in me enough to give me their theater for a full night. If you've never been, it's a big enough space that it feels like a production and it's an intimate enough space that you feel like you're one with the audience.

I want to thank my Mom. Man, oh, man. What we put each other through to get to this point and here we are. Thank you, thank you, thank you for supporting my insanity. It's not always easy but it's always real. Your heart bleeds for your children and everyone knows it. I'm a very fortunate son. I love you.

I dedicated this album to the memories of my Uncle Joe, my Nana and TC Cheever.
Three people who built me, believed in me and inspired me and ultimately still do every single day.

Beyond everything else, I want to thank my family, my friends and everyone else who came out to the recording. The support I've felt in the last two years has been life changing. The way you people lift me up keeps my blood flowing, keeps my heart beating and keeps my smile wide. I'm proud to be a part of your circles. I'm lucky to know each and every one of you. I promise to stay grounded and have your backs through and through on my journey. The people in my life are a constant source of light, an unconditional source of motivation and a bottomless source of happiness. I am filled with love.

I've got your backs. #DJBThereForYou

Love yourself, take care of each other and follow your fucking dreams.

#DJBLove

The Truth I've Discovered

"Sharing is caring." - Barney the Dinosaur

Barney may be a sweaty actor inside some fabric made to look like an overzealous dinosaur. 

Even so, that sweaty actor was on to something.

Or maybe his writers were?

I share. I overshare. DJB might as well be TMI.

Some might argue I share for the attention (Hi mom!).

Others might say I share for the validation. (Hi ex girlfriends!)

I share because I believe it's important to tell your story.

It's important for so many reasons. 

Reason one: your story is your truth. 

Everyone has a story and as such everyone has a truth.

Your truth is your vulnerability. 

Your vulnerability is what builds bridges to other people.

When you open yourself to the world, the world opens itself to you.

If you take the difficult and challenging risk of exposing your truth, 

the truth of those around you will show up. 

I truly believe this risk is worth it. 

Underneath everyone is what I call "a light".

Some people might call it God. Or humanity. Or Floppity Goop.

In this light exists love, inspiration, passion and connection.

Everyone has access to this light. 

Some people live in the light as if they've harnessed it and learned how to drive it.

I believe I live parallel to that light. 

I think my purpose is to help others do the same.

Many people show flashes of the light in their eyes or their writing or their dancing but then 

live a life that mostly smothers it. It might be an accidental smothering or a situational smothering but it's a dismissal of the light nonetheless. 

That light is all of us. Once you've seen it, you wouldn't want to dismiss it.

It's the salted caramel core in a Ben & Jerrys pint. It's the batter of chocolate chip cookies.

It's the first kiss you've been waiting for since you met her. It's the belly laugh that brings you to the floor. If it's not why we're here, it's what keeps us optimistic when we are. 

If it is why we're here, why, so many people walk past it as if it's an already scratched scratch ticket on the sidewalk. Wait, is it scratched? Maybe it's a winner and the person who scratched didn't notice? The dismissed hope and excitement from the chance to win money. Hope discarded. The actualization of false hope. Trash. Littered on the sidewalk. 

When you live in the light, that hope is always real. 

That hope alone is an end. 

This crunchy diatribe ends in a challenge to you.

If you see the light in someone, hug that light. Tap that light. 

Sit in that light. Love that light. 

Make sure that light stays on and that everyone sees it.

If you share the light, you channel what is the bridge to all humanity.

Just when you thought it couldn't get brighter, you realize you never really knew what light was.

#djblove 

The 100 First Jokes V Incident Explained by DJB

You might have heard that some shit went down tonight at 100 First Jokes V tonight.

First, everything is OK. Thank you for your concern.

Second, I'd like to give you my version of what happened and include why I did what I did and why I said what I said.

Here's what happened:

100 First Jokes is an annual stand up comedy party that I produce and ImprovBoston hosts every New Years Day. There are two shows. In each show, the best comedians from the Boston area tell their first NEW joke of 2016. It's a stupid amount of fun despite how exhausting it is to produce and host.
It's an honor to put this show together for the community that so often has my back.

Tonight, in our 7:30PM show, an incident occurred roughly a third of the way through the show.
Josh Do was onstage telling his first joke. Josh is an asian comic. To me, that's only relevant because of what happened. Josh is hilarious. You'll notice when you talk to someone of a different ethnicity than yours that they're MORE than just their ethnicity. YEAH! They're actually people. They have family, jobs, relationships, bad habits, ups and downs JUST LIKE YOU. It's magical.

Josh was doing a joke about how he has to bounce when he walks so he can stay in rhythm with his testicles. It was going well.

Suddenly, from front row center, an older white, gentleman who looked like a straighter, more Republican looking Tim Gunn, yelled out "You can cut those off with your sushi knife."
Hmmm. That seems out of place.

Where did he get "sushi knife" from a bit about testicles? OH! RIGHT! He has a sushi knife because HE LOOKS LIKE HE MIGHT?!? GET IT? A RACIST STEREOTYPE! I GET IT. FUCK THAT.

Here's where it starts to unravel. I don't like people who talk out at comedy shows. They're known as hecklers. Hecklers suck. For some reason, people who think they're important pay money to see stand up shows and decide that they need to add something so that they can feel momentarily important to the sad people they brought to the show. Hecklers are sad. A rare percentage of hecklers are just having fun and they don't know any better. It's important that the comedian onstage navigate a heckler's demeanor and intent before going full steam after them. You don't want to eviscerate someone who is just having fun.

Most importantly, I don't like racism. It sucks. It affects people in profound, shitty ways that an older, arrogant looking white gentleman likely doesn't understand. I can't imagine he's ever hassled at the tennis club for his membership card or pulled over in his Volvo for changing lanes without a blinker.

So on the sidelines, from where I host, I waited to see how Josh responded. Josh did a classy thing. He didn't respond. I don't know why. I don't care why. He finished his joke and left the stage.

If you want to see the monster inside of me, punch down.
Pick on someone who you perceive as lower than you.
I will devour you and I'll still be hungry when you're digested.

So I decided to address what happened. I took the stage and I said:
(maybe slightly paraphrased; I was hot)
"Hey, feel free to laugh, applaud, even boo but you don't get to talk during the show and you certainly don't get to say racist things to the comedians. Not on my stage. Also, dude, you look just like Tim Gunn. This isn't Project Runway. It's 2016. It might be time to be a little bit more progressive."

He was notably and impressively silent for the rest of the show.

The show went on without further incident, though, I did playfully apologize to him once and rib him gently a couple of more times. I could have destroyed him, He was front row center with what I think was his wife and his 20 something year old daughter. There may have been more of his people. Honestly, for the world's sake, I hope not.

(again might be paraphrasing a bit...)
At the end of the show, as I said 'Thank you! Goodnight', I turned around to strike the mic stand and I could hear him yelling at me. "Hey. Hey you. Hey asshole." I tried to ignore him but then I could see in my periphery that he had come onstage. I turned and he got right in my face.
Mind you, my mic was still live for some of this so the audience and the comedians in the holding area heard most of the exchange.....

He said "Who the hell do you think you are?"
I said: "I'm not a racist, for starters. You don't talk during a comedy show."
He said: "You're a loser. What I said wasn't racist. He was talking about testicles. I said he should cut them off with a sushi knife."
I said: "Uh. that's racist. That comedian was asian."
He said: "It's not racist you loser. Stop spitting at me." (mind you, he's right in my face. I just hosted a show with 75 comics on it. I don't have any saliva in my mouth at this point)
I said: "I don't care what you said. If you talk during a comedy show, you'll get called out. You're rude. Did you notice how no one else did that?"
He said: "You're a loser. My daughter's here. You embarrassed me in front of my daughter."
I said: "You embarrassed you in front of your daughter. You're a shitty father. Get the fuck out of here."

He left. I don't miss him. I really don't. I wish him well. But he left thinking he was right.
His machismo was bubbling over so much that he couldn't possible turn the mirror on himself.
That's behind a lot of the world's problems, by the way.

So, here's the thing. I don't like being angry even when it's justified.
This guy was absolutely in the wrong. He got right up in my face. I think he said he was going to kill me but I don't remember it clearly enough to be certain. (I was hot.) I thought he was going to take a swing.
I've never seen someone SO in the wrong be so indignant about it and insist he's right.
This is what it's like to be white sometimes. You get to act like a complete asshole and then back away from any accountability. Can you imagine how rare it must be for people to call this guy out?

Sir, Tim, can I call you Tim? Mr. Gunn.

1) You heckled = wrong.
2) You were racist = wrong
3) You came onstage uninvited = wrong

I'm sorry that I embarrassed you in front of your daughter but I'm sure it's not the first time she'll be ashamed of you or the last if this is any indication of how you typically behave in public.

Grow up, shut up and stay the fuck home.

For those who were there or who wanted to hear this story, I have a challenge for you:
CALL THIS SHIT OUT EVERY FUCKING TIME.
It's not being politically correct. It's being human. I don't feel brave or like a hero.
I'm upset. I don't like being angry. I don't like that this guy thinks he should be able to get away with that. I don't like that calling this shit out seems like such a rarity. Please, I implore you, get on it, friends.

I love you all.

Love yourself, take care of each other and follow your fucking dreams.

DJB