A love letter to my Daisy Dog

To my Baby Daisy:

God, how Penny and I miss you. You were a survivor from the day you were born. Half your litter mates died and your mother, Sally, was depressed and her milk dried up. Your grandmother, also named Daisy, had recently given birth to a different litter and she stepped in to feed the three remaining puppies. When I went to pick you up from the farm, you were crawling around under her begging for more milk.You were the chunkiest of the bunch.  I named you after her so you could also be strong.

Over the next 14 years and seven months, you were mostly healthy. You did have some challenges in your later years that would have probably killed other dogs. You had a couple of nasty battles with pancreatitis. In 2019, I took you to the emergency vet with every intention of saying goodbye that day. You'd lost your ability to walk. Turns out, it was vestibular disease. The vet gave you a 50-50 shot at recovery. A little more than 24 hours later, you started teaching yourself to walk again. For the rest of your life, your head was slightly tilted like you were constantly interested in everything. Most of the time, you weren't. In April, you were diagnosed with laryngeal paralysis. Your breathing was often very labored and your back legs were very weak. You fell a lot. Every night, I’d have to practically carry you up the stairs. But you persevered. You always persevered.

Until you couldn’t anymore. A little before noon on July 25, I did one of the hardest things I've ever done while sobbing into your fur at a vet’s office at Myrtle Beach. You died as you lived, with your head held high and an air of defiance.

When I called our vet at home to tell her what happened, she said, “Daisy Davis had a great life.” And oh, did you ever.

I made the decision to get a second lab when my black lab Winnie was about two. I thought she’d be lonely after my roommate moved out with her dog. For weeks, Winnie was not at all interested in you. This made you only want Winnie’s love and affection more. You cried all night long like a newborn baby those first few days and it drove Winnie insane. Wherever Winnie went, you'd would follow. You were constantly hungry and would nip at Winnie’s heels for her attention. Over time, Winnie started to see you as her puppy and trained you as such. I always say I didn’t really have to do a lot to train you because Winnie did it.

You were quick to house train, but had some behaviors that earned you the name Crazy Daisy. You destroyed a laptop keyboard about two days after I bought it. You chewed a hole in the wall of a rental home that my dad had to drive two hours to repair. You laid by the fireplace and chewed the carpet until you pulled it up completely. One day you wandered off in our unfenced backyard and were gone for an hour. Then you appeared at the front door like nothing ever happened. You once killed a rabbit and brought it to me. I buried it. You dug it up and brought it back to me with such pride.

You and Winnie had such wonderful moments that I will cherish forever. But after Winnie died in 2015, you really became the most wonderful dog.  I was so devastated to lose Winnie. As soon as I got home from the vet, you attached yourself to my side and never really left., I went back to work for two days and then we had two snow days. We spent the time playing in the snow, grieving together and learning how to become a household of two. Those are some of my most treasured days with you. I worried about you being bored during the day and bought you an expensive, elaborate toy with a maze design that would release treats throughout the day. For days, you didn’t play with it and then one day, you simply destroyed it. You got all the treats at once. Delayed gratification was not something that you were interested in.

As soon as we moved into this house, your  favorite place to be was sitting in the dining room staring out the window. You would bark at everything. I’d look at the security camera and see that you sat there all day. You would lose your mind when I left the house and greet me with barks and licks whenever I came home. If I took a trip, you would happily greet me when I returned and then ignore me for a day or two to let me know that you weren't a happy camper.

You always crossed your paws as if you were a grand dame. In retrospect, you were. I looked back at old pictures and I can track you starting that when you were around a year old.

You always hated puppies. They stressed you out, got on your nerves and made you act like a snapping turtle. I wondered many times if I did the right thing bringing Penny into our household just a month after Winnie’s death. For weeks, you were pissed. You would snap at Penny, run from her and drool from the stress. Then one day, you just laid her head on top of Penny to cuddle and everything changed. You begrudgingly loved her and spent five years being an amazing big sister.

You were a funny dog with a great sense of humor. You were perpetually goofy and loved to make people laugh. You were also a weirdo. One of your favorite activities was stealing used tissues or napkins that you would manically shred. You had to be carefully watched. You'd stalk me if I blew my nose, just hoping to get that tissue. You'd recently become obsessed with licking the couch and would get mad when I made you stop. You were the nosiest dog ever. You'd bust into any room during any occasion to see what was going on. I don’t think I’ve used the bathroom alone for nearly 15 years. When my mom came after Winnie died, she brought a ton of snacks that she left in the guest room. When we returned, you'd eaten every one. This included opening a packing of Nutella and licking every drop out, then replacing the lid. You could open canned dog food and would eat every morsel, never cutting yourself.

As you grew older, you transitioned from Crazy Daisy to Grumpy Gus. You were constantly annoyed and put upon. There was a lot of grunting and groans and deeply annoyed sighs. The infamous Daisy Attitude Stare could be withering. But when you were happy, you were so joyful and it was contagious.

While you definitely slowed down the last six months of your life, you'd  have these bursts of energy where you'd do bad things that would inevitably make me laugh. At my parents’ house in December as I recovered from jaw surgery, you'd bust down the baby gate in my bedroom and go stare at my parents creepily while they slept. You dug through the trash can (lots of used tissues in there) and opened Christmas presents under the tree. During the last few weeks of your life, you stole a sandwich and a biscuit from me. You recently taught yourself how to open the pantry and opened a bag of treats. Every day, you'd take a bite. This went on for about a week without me noticing what you were really doing. You were criminally smart.

I intentionally chose a puppy with a black nose. When you first came home with me, your nose was like a little piece of coal. Over the years, it slowly turned pink. It felt like an elaborate prank. There was nothing that brought you more joy than rolling on your back through some grass or rolling across my freshly vacuumed carpet with glee.

As mobility became an issue, I had an industrial strength baby gate installed at the bottom of the stairs. You quickly figured out how to open it and came and went as you pleased. You hated when I put you in costumes for holidays but would begrudgingly oblige. Yaviri would come and take our photos and you'd pose like a Cover Girl when photographed alone. When Penny and I joined the pictures, you were annoyed.

It became harder to earn your love as you got older. You were very skeptical of people and constantly sighing and rolling your eyes.  But when you loved someone, you loved them with the fire of a thousand suns. 

When I almost lost you in 2019, I asked you to hang around for me and help me through some things. I had two major surgeries coming up later that year and I needed you. And you came through. You were  by my side every step of the way through both surgeries. I spent 18 weeks of medical leave at home with you and have been working from home in a pandemic since March. None of those days have been easy. But I am so thankful that we had so much time together in the last year of your life. I was hoping that you'd make it through COVID with me and you definitely fought the good fight. But I know you were tired.

If I have one major regret with you, it is that I spent too much time worrying about what could or would happen. For months, I stressed about when was the right time to say goodbye and whether you were suffering. I should have known that you would let me know when you were ready. And you did. I knew it was coming so I had a week where you ate whatever you wanted. I made you steaks and shrimp on the grill. You had squash and a birthday cake for turning 14.5. You ate like a queen. And a pig.

The morning that you died, I took you to the beach at sunrise. You enjoyed being in the ocean. You took a nap in the sun and it seemed to be shining just on you. You always, even on the hottest of days, would find a patch of sun to nap in. You had a Bojangles biscuit. We had a nearly four hour wait at the vet’s office during which I changed my mind about 100 times. But I knew that it was right and so did you.

When Winnie died, the medicine kicked in so quickly. As soon as they gave her the shot, she was gone. You, in typical Daisy fashion, lingered a bit. You were too independent to just go when someone told you to. You were going to do things the way you wanted. For a few seconds, I thought you might be the first dog to ever survive euthanasia. I told her you to go find Winnie. I know that you hung in as long as you did for me. I don’t think you ever thought of dying as an option. You hung in for me as long as you possibly could.

The night before, I played the new album Gaslighter by The Chicks. There’s a song called Set Me Free. I was still trying to decide what to do. I’d grabbed a pillow and a blanket and was laying on the floor with you. Then I heard these lyrics and it felt like you were talking right to me:

Decency
Would be for you to sign and release me
If you ever loved me
Then will you do this one last thing?
Set me free, set me free
Oh, set me free
Set me free, let me be
Oh, set me free

So I took my favorite girl to the beach that you loved. And then I set you free. The last words I told you were that it was OK to go, that I would be OK. I am not even remotely close to being there yet. It feels like my heart is absolutely broken into pieces. The pain of you not being in this house is physical. Penny is trying really hard to be a good girl like you taught her. We are in this awful pit of grief that we’re struggling to crawl out of. And yet, I know we will learn to move on and be OK. You showed us how, baby girl.

Something special

I've been to a lot of concerts. I wish I had a way to calculate how many. All I know is that my love of live music began with New Kids on the Block in second grade and since my New Year's resolution in 2011, I try to go to one every month.

I've never been to a truly bad concert. Once, I saw Blake Shelton open for Brad Paisley and he was so drunk and obnoxious, I knew I'd never pay to see him as an individual. But that's about the worst I've ever seen. But then there are good concerts. Great concerts. Amazing concerts. Concerts where you are relatively sober but walk out into the night feeling high. For me, those concerts have been, in no particular order:

1. Justin Timberlake and Jay Z in N.Y.C.
2. Garth Brooks in Charleston, S.C.
3. The Rolling Stones in Raleigh
4. Pearl Jam in Greenville, S.C.

The latest addition to that list is Chris Stapleton, Charlotte N.C.

Long before Chris set foot on stage to sing "Drink you away" with Justin Timberlake in 2015, I was a fan. His "What are you listening to" was a constant repeat play of mine in 2013. His soulful sound a bluesy voice got me every time. I think there is something so special about Chris Stapleton. He's not pop country at all. He reminds me of both Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson. If you know me at all, you know this is about as high as praise gets for me.

Showing more similarity to Cash, Chris doesn't have a woman behind him. His woman is always beside him. Morgane Stapleton, armed with a tambourine, sings harmony along with her husband. The two of them together is one of the most beautiful sounds I've ever heard. "That's what an angel sounds like," this drunk guy behind me yelled. Of course, I high-fived him.

His song, "Fire Away"is my personal favorite. While the powerful lyrics can sound like another typical love song, the music video tells the real story. "Fire Away" is a story about mental health, suicide and loving someone despite all the challenge that can bring.

Saturday night, about 3/4 of the way through the show, Chris strummed the first two chords of "Fire Away" and without provocation, the crowd went nuts. Chris stopped, kind of startled. He tried to start again and the crowd kept screaming. And screaming. It was a good three or four minutes before he was able to start the song. And the crowd kept singing, as loudly as they could, throughout the entire song. I'm not talking about the cheesy singing where the singer turns the mic to the crowd. I am talking about real, spontaneous, singing. Twenty-thousand people just belting it out.

At the end of the song, Chris and his wife seemed totally overwhelmed and asked everyone to turn the lights on the phone and sing it again. "I want you to sing it again, louder than last time, but I am not sure that's possible," he said.

So, everyone whips out their phones. A few old dudes even pulled out their lighters. And we sang it again. And on that perfect May night, (Yes, even the weather was perfect) it felt like everything in the world was right. It was one of those truly special moments that make you glad to be alive.

'You're the first person in town to own this album.'

Editor's note: It's taken me more than two weeks to write about the Pearl Jam concert because it was that good. I kept writing and rewriting drafts and just couldn't get it right. So I asked Brad to do it and I think to say he did it justice is an understatement. So, please enjoy my first-ever guest blog!

Guest Author: Brad Dickerson

It’s impossible for me to approach a review of Pearl Jam’s electrifying April 16, 2016 show in Greenville, S.C., without sharing a little personal history.

Flashback to Oct. 19, 1993, and you’d find this then-13-year-old lad having his mom take him to a local record store in Glasgow, Ky., called, conveniently, Record Rack to make a purchase.

This was a big day; it was the day Pearl Jam’s sophomore effort, “Vs.” was being released. And in my hometown of less than 14,000 people, you had two options when it came to buying music – Wal-Mart or Record Rack.

Back in those days, the big box store’s CD shelves were full of albums from a plethora of country artists or more pop-friendly acts like Mariah Carey, Sting and the like. If you wanted a rocker, Record Rack was your destination.

In the center row, I found about seven copies of “Vs.” This was not a decision that needed a second thought; I was ready to make my purchase.

As I handed the CD to the cashier, he commented that it was the first copy he’d sold all day. Then, he said something that I still remember to this day:

“Congratulations. You’re the first person in Glasgow to own this album.”

For the 13-year-old who had been utterly possessed by their legendary debut album, “Ten,” hearing those words made me feel as though I was at the forefront of Pearl Jam fandom.

Which made what transpired more than 20 years later at Greenville’s Bon Secours Wellness Arena all the more earth-shattering for this lifetime fan of the Seattle stalwarts.'

Eddie Vedder and company opened the raucous show with “Corduroy,” which quickly set the tone for the rocking affair myself and 16,000 other fans were in for. It was followed by “Vs.’” opening track, “Go.” Not missing a beat, they segued into track No. 2, “Animal,” followed immediately by “Daughter.” Suddenly, it hit me; are they about to do what I think they’re going to do? We’ll see what the next song is.

And to my absolute delight, it was “Vs.’” fourth track, “Glorified G,” a rollicking face melter that remains my favorite song in Pearl Jam’s catalog. Plus, it confirmed what I was praying was about to happen; they were going to play the album in its entirety from front to back.

Sure enough, the next eight songs were from “Vs.” in sequential order. I could have called it a night right then and there and said the show was well worth the price of admission.

But this is Pearl Jam we’re talking about here. They weren’t even close to done. In fact, they were just getting started.

Having said that, before I continue with this long-winded review (if you’re still reading, then God bless you), I need to pause and reflect on what a moment this was.

In 25 years, Pearl Jam has only played an entire album live two previous times. That means over the course of thousands of shows, only three audiences have gotten to experience what I had just experienced.

Wow.

It’s just part of the magic of seeing this band live; no two setlists are ever the same.I live for seeing bands in concert. It’s just a passion of mine. And like any audience member, I want to hear the hits.

Unfortunately, for a number of acts, they stick to a tried and true script and rarely alter their batting order. That doesn’t mean the shows are any less fun, but it can make them feel a bit stale. You find yourself yearning for one or two wild cards.

Pearl Jam excels at wild cards. One of their biggest hits is unquestionably “Jeremy.” I’ve seen the band live five times and haven’t heard the song once. But I have heard a stellar cover of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” and a tear-generating version of “Future Days” from their most recent effort, 2013’s “Lightning Bolt.”Both made it into the Greenville setlist. No “Jeremy” required.

And when it was time to wrap it up, the band left everything on the stage with their final four numbers: “Better Man,” an arena-wide singalong of “Alive,” the balls-to-the-wall thunder generated by covering The Who’s “Baba O’ Riley” and the perfect last call number, “Yellow Ledbetter.”

After more than three hours and 32 songs, the band gave their final bows and left the stage.

Our audience was hungry for another three hours. The reason why is simple; Pearl Jam encapsulates rock and roll.

They may have burst onto the scene as one of the ambassadors of grunge at the start of the 1990s. However, as the years passed and many of their contemporaries suffered personal heartache or simply faded away, they evolved into what they’d always been at their core – a classic rock band that is one part Zepellin, two parts Springsteen and a dash of Iggy Pop.

And for one thrilling night, they held all of us in the palm of their hand with their unprecedented set list, infectious energy and a sheer determination to be the best at what they do.

For the 13-year-old who still lives deep inside, it was nice to see that my money was well spent that day at Record Rack. For that purchase would make up a large portion of the greatest concert I’ve ever seen.

Let's all focus on this manufactured drama to avoid our real lives

The Real Housewives is my secret shame. Like a bad boyfriend, I've tried many times to dump this franchise of shows about insane women. I've watched every city. Even Miami. (And I don't know that anyone else watches that one, even Andy Cohen.)

So, when I found out about the The Real Housewives of Charlotte: A parody, I knew I had to go and I knew I had to take my friend Jean who is equally obsessed with these bitches.

The show was at the Booth Playhouse, which is a perfect smaller venue for this intimate feeling show. The cast of six (Randy Bowen and five housewives) uses a minimal script, improving for a majority of the show. For each city this national tour hits, they incorporate a ton of local jokes and references. I knew that we were in for a good show when they began with some typical opening credits that found the housewives holding Bojangles chicken boxes to represent the Queen City.

Each of the five housewives borrowed from the personalities of women from all of the cities to create one monster housewife.

There's Ravonka, (Lori McClain) who's terrible accent comes and goes. She claims to be royalty and carries a small dog around in her purse.

Gwen is a convicted felon who used to be former Mayor Patrick Cannon's top adviser. She was also convicted of running a toll booth on I-77 before it was ever approved. Her one-liners, including a joke about making Pat McCrory disappear, stole the show.

Brooke is a straight shooter from the tough streets of Kannapolis. She is an "entrepreneuress" whose latest business venture is butt writing on the seats of ladies' pants. Her greatest idea reads, "If you feel stuck, push harder."

Claudia Louise, who wants to me known as C.L., is the only housewife who is actually married. She gets to show off her husband, who was an unsuspecting audience member Mark. Poor Mark gets dragged into the show but manages to be a great sport all the way until the end of the show.

The final housewife is Desiree who says, "I always stick my neck out for my friends. Maybe that's because I am a neck model."

Jackson Evans did an amazing job portraying the glee and desperation of Andy Cohen. Every time the ladies announced sad news, he did a happy  jig. "We also have a tragedy this season," he gleefully told the audience. "And we're not going to tell you what it is yet, but we're going to tease the hell out of it and make you feel obligated to watch."

I think that's what's so intriguing to me about the housewives franchise. It's totally compelling television, but it's not my drama. There are no consequences for me. It's just fun TV. Sometimes, there is guilt in knowing that these are real people's lives. Or as Randy said, "Let's all focus on this manufactured drama to avoid our real lives."

The parody show, just like the Bravo franchise, is a fun escape from real life.

The best concert I've ever been to....

There are very few artists that I would buy tickets to see the day I return from a seven-day cruise. But when I found out that Garth Brooks would be in Charleston the day I returned to Charleston, I figured this was meant to be.

I feel like one of the best things about adulthood is being able to go to whatever concerts I want. And I certainly have! But there are a handful of artists that are on my concert bucket list that I haven't been able to see just because they haven't been on tour. Seeing Garth Brooks is something I've wanted to do since I was a little girl. So I was overjoyed when Garth announced a tour in 2014. And I waited. And waited. And waited. His show in Greensboro last year sold out in seconds and I'd almost given up. Every other week or so, I'd get an e-mail from him announcing a new tour date and he seemed to be getting further and further away. So, Charleston seemed like a special performance for me.

But I wasn't the only one that wanted to see Garth. He scheduled six shows in three days for Charleston. Thankfully, because I am old and easily tired, Brad and I had tickets to the 7 p.m. early show at the North Charleston Performing Arts Center.

We had great seats and the venue was very small with a capacity for 13,000. This gave the concert a more intimate feel. Before the show started, there was a giant "G" on the stage that rotated. A 60-second countdown came up before the show started and revealed a giant sphere where the drummer sat. Garth started with "Man Against the Machine" and I was a little concerned. I am not here for your new stuff, Garth!

Luckily, after his opening number, Garth seemed to read my mind. "When I go to a show, I want to hear the old stuff!"he yelled. And that's exactly what he did. For the next nearly three hours, I got to hear very one of my favorite Garth songs.

The songs varied in tempo and message, but the audience was enthusiastic about every bit of it. Brad and I both agreed that we'd never been to a louder concert. There were some amazing graphics that produced a rain storm during "The Thunder Rolls." After that song, Trisha Yearwood came out to sing a duet of "In Another's Eyes." Brooks took a well-deserved break while Yearwood sang, songs like, "How Do I Live" and "She's in Love with The Boy." She also had a stadium-style kiss cam and warned audience members to go grab a beer if they were at the concert with someone other than their significant others. I found this particularly amusing as Garth and Trisha didn't exactly have the most clean get together.

For his third act, Garth told us that his favorite song to perform is "Calling Baton Rouge." I've read an interview with him before where he says he always wanted a song that people recognize on the first chord. He definitely accomplished that with "Friends in Low Places"

I can't say enough about how energetic Garth is. I have a DVD of his one-man show in Vegas. It was very low-key. I was kind of expecting the same thing. But he defied my expectations by running around the stage, climbing things and keeping the audience energized. It was definitely the best concert I've ever been to. Even though I was exhausted and was still having the "rocking on a boat" feeling, I am so glad we got to go.

You can change the world when you change your mind

Since the Magic Mike show tickets sold out in, oh, five seconds, I had to find another event for January. There was a great TravelZoo deal on Kinky Boots tickets at Blumenthal Performance Arts Center, so Brad and I were there Jan. 2.

Our seats were W 207 and 208 and I plan on trying to get these seats for every show that I see. They were two seats isolated from everyone else in the orchestra section and they were amazing.

I knew that Kinky Boots was the Tony-award winning Musical of the Year, but I had no idea what the story was about. Based on a true story, Kinky Boots is about Brit Charlie Price who reluctantly returns to his father's shoe failing shoe factory after his father's death. Faced with having to lay off employees, Charlie needs a creative spark to keep the shoe factory alive. He meets Lola, a drag queen, who gives him the idea to create ladies shoes for men.

This is normally the part in the blog where I talk about the individual performances and actors, but unfortunately I left my playbill on my seat during intermission and it was TAKEN! I've asked Liam Neeson to get it back for me. Until then, I can say that we were both very impressed with the quality of the performances. The actors were not only great singers, but amazing dancers as well. I have to give credit to the women AND men who pulled off the expertly crafted choreography in high-heeled boots.

My absolute favorite thing about the show is the true, unfiltered relationship between Charlie and Lola. It was a unique story that tugged at your heart strings without being overly corny. The pair learned how to respect each other and that was fun to watch.

The theme of the show is about being different and accepting other's for who they are. "You can change the world when you change your mind" is the show's theme. It's a good goal for me, to try to be more accepting of others in this new year.

I just want to see you be brave...

This blog has been through a couple of purposes since 2011 but this year, we're going back to our  roots. You can read everything you need to know about how that blog started here but all you really need to know is this space was originally created to write about enjoying one live event every month of the year. This month, I am resolving to continue that original goal.

There a couple of reasons for that. I went to some great concerts this year (The Rolling Freaking Stones) and didn't blog about that. Unacceptable. Also, 2015 hasn't been the best year for me for many, many reasons. I don't know if 2016 will be any better, but I am trying to be optimistic. And finally, I have a bucket list concert scheduled for next year (no spoilers) and I have to write about that!

I'm starting the resolution a little early this year, thanks to a birthday present from my friend Jean. Even though she couldn't attend the Amy Schumer show in Charlotte Dec. 19, she bought me tickets and encouraged me to take a friend. I invited my friend Maya, who now lives in Columbia. My strengthening friendship with Maya is one of the good things that happened in 2015.

I've been obsessed with Amy Schumer since 1997 when she lost to local comedian John Reap. And was forever on her side because she was so much better than him. It's been fascinating to watch her career grow and her show, Inside Amy Schumer, really sealed our girl crush.

The parody that she did about Friday Night Lights, one of my favorite TV shows of all times, proves that rape jokes can work when done correctly.




Maya came to visit. We went to Fahrenheit Charlotte for cocktails, but mostly for the skyline views.

Then we walked over to Time Warner Arena. Jean was kind enough to purchase seats at the front of our row, so we had a little room for our cocktails.

Amy had a couple of opening acts. This first was her brother, a jazz musician. That was kind of weird and out of place. As first the music was good, then it started to sound like noise.

Her second opener was comedian Rachel Feinstein who I'd heard before and was pretty funny.

Then came Amy. Maya and I both love her, but weren't really sure what to expect because we've seen everything she's in, including her latest HBO schedule and we were worried about repeat jokes. That was not a problem! Maya and I only heard one joke we'd head before. Everything else was new material.

I think Maya and I both thoroughly enjoyed Amy's discussion about her recent nude photos. She was so frustrated that she was called "brave" by the media and she threaded that joke throughout her entire performance. Amy is a hard-core feminist and that was particularly fun for Maya and me to hear her rants. It was even more awesome to have the guys around me cheering in support.

What really surprised me was her decision to talk about gun control. She mentioned, by name, the two women who died while watching Trainwreck in Louisiana this summer. Mayci Breaux, 21, and 33 year-old Jillian Johnson inspired Schumer to learn more about gun control laws. "I don't want to take away anyone's guns," she said. "I just think maybe people from the terrorist watch list shouldn't have guns. Also, did you know that Stevie Wonder can just buy any gun he wants?"

After Amy's performance, she brought out her cabaret singing friend Bridget Everett. I almost didn't mention her because I wasn't sure what say. But Charlotte Observer columnist Theoden James had this to say, "Her only misstep was ending the show with a bizarre performance by a six-foot tall and fairly wide comic Bridget Everett, who spend 20 awkward minutes singing, dancing, instigating wardrobe malfunctions and sitting on one male audience member's face."

The dude sitting beside me was laughing non-stop and kept shouting out things like, "I don't know what is going on!"

Maya's official review: " I was shocked, I guess, since I didn't know what to expect. I laughed a lot. I don't know what that means."

Another running theme of Schumer's set was that she is on minute 14 of being famous. I couldn't possible disagree more. In what's turning into a golden age of comedy for women, I think Schumer has a lot more fuckable days in her future. And many more minutes on her fame clock.