Nevernude Monologue

I was reading David Cross' new book, I Drink for a Reason, on the plane last week--went cover to cover on a flight from Love Field to Austin, which is the ideal commitment for a stand-up actor's Deep Thoughts. The book, which attracted the wandering eyes of two fuckin'-wasted frat boys, a girl who smelled like patchouli wafting from a 1975 Rambler ashtray and a soldier who offered to trade his Clive Cussler, reads like his stand-up sounds: smart-ass and scabrous, whether referring to inane bumper stickers, organic foods, shitty parents or Jim Belushi--the bong-master's Andy Rooney, have you ever noticed? Cross, never as brilliant as when paired with Bob Odenkirk or as bold as when never-nude on Fox, does disgruntled better than most, but his anger's tempered with a soft touch--his outrage stems from a hopefulness dashed to bits by pragmatism, otherwise known as The Curse of the Middle-Class Jew. The book lacks only the visceral thrill of a live Cross performance, which these days veers closer to performance art; sooner or later he'll turn on the Lakewood Theater Friday, or at least that's what you're supposed to think while you're shitting your pants and praying, notmenotmenotme. David Cross takes the stage Friday at the Lakewood, 1825 Abrams Parkway. Comedian Todd Glass opens at 7 p.m. Tickets are $25 to $35. Visit
Fri., Oct. 16, 7 p.m., 2009


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