MANUEL ELISEO DIAZ.............................MY FATHER

                               What's up beautiful people? I hope everyone had a great weekend. It was the first weekend I had off from Comedy in a couple of weeks so I just relaxed. It's amazing that its the end of the month already. Its March! Can you believe that?
                                Anyway, enough with the chitter, chatter. I talk a lot of shit on stage and on podcast. I talk about my mom and my crazy step dad and all the other great and unusual people that have been put in my path. There's one person I never talk about and that's my father. His name was Manolo Eliseo Diaz, his street name was Manolo Camaguey, after the City he came from in Cuba.
                                He was born in Cuba but grew up on the lower East side of New York City. He died a week after my 3rd Birthday, that's why I remember him, but I don't. While I was growing up I heard great things about him. His kindness and his generosity. His love for my mom and for me. I heard about how he came to this Country and was taken in by Jews, and how he borrowed money from one of them and opened a Cuban restaurant in Union City in 1956 with my mother called El OK. That was what put him on the map and how he became the first Cuban committee man with aspirations of politics. I also read his obituary, and how he died of a heart attack, and how my mother took his body back to Cuba to be burried, it was amazing.
                               When I was young I would spend my Summers in Miami with my Godfather Rodolpho. He had grown up with my father. One night while he was having a few drinks, he broke down. He said there wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of my Father. He asked if I knew the story? I replied yes. He thought I knew the real story so he started to tell me how all these years he lived with guilt because he felt he could have saved him. I asked him how? He said if he would've been there and Manolo would've gotten the stuff from him. What stuff? He said that my father was at the bar with my mom celebrating and that they were looking for cocaine. He had it but didn't want to leave because he had business that morning. My father and mother kept calling but he wouldn't answer.
                              A few hours later my Father found something. He told my mom to walk him to the bathroom but there were customers so my father went in by himself. When he came out my mother said he was pail. It was heroin and it killed him with in minutes. They kept calling Rodulpho and when he answered and they told him the story he still didn't believe it so he didn't go down.
                              I went home and confronted my mother about the story and she told me it was true. She said she was waiting for me to get older to tell me. I couldn't believe it. The newspaper story, the obituary, nothing mentioned drugs. When I asked my mom she shrugged it off, then years later she died and I never really got an answer.
                           While she was alive she always mentioned a Prudential insurance policy my father had left, but she never collected on it because she was saving the money for my college. I looked into it and he had left me a huge policy! A half a million dollars, that was in 66' when he died. Could you imagine what it would be worth in 79? I contacted the Insurance company and said the claim was good. The required certain paperwork and wills and what not. There was a problem. His death certificate and autopsy papers were never signed. How did this happen. I hired an attorney and the only thing that we could do was to go to Cuba and dig up the grave and have it tested. Can you believe this?
                        I gave up on this situation and was trying to go on with my life. It was 84' and I was getting ready to move to Colorado, so for a few extra bucks I got a job with some Puerto Ricans  numbers bookies I knew that had been partners with my mom in the early days. One day one of the guys told me that there was an old friend of my Fathers that wanted to see me. His name was Angel, he too had grown up with my father and knew what had happened. He told me that my Father and him ran Heroin for the Jews in the early 50's and made a fortune, that's how he got his first restaurant. My mom and him fell in love and had my Sister than me. My father was a legitimate business man but his side business was Heroin and numbers. He said that the night he died, he was at the hospital with my mother and since my Father was a Committee man and he was rolling with influential people that they would be embarrassed by this so they made up the whole thing of the heart attack and got him out of there. He was buried in Cuba and the most important thing was that he did love me.
                   The reason I'm writing about him was because this past Saturday was the 45th anniversary of his death and I never really think about him that much. I tried to write this 2 or 3 times today, but couldn't get it right. As a child I came to terms with it very easily and today I know why. It always seemed to me like he was always there. At times as a child I could feel his warmth. I know it sounds crazy but it always seemed like I would see him again. Even after my mother remarried, I kept his name because he was never really gone to me. In fact he gave me the name, "Coco' and every time I hear that for a split second I think of him.
                  Thank you for taking the time to read this. Have a great week but most important, STAY BLACK!

MARCH COMEDY DATES
The Brea Improv 9th
Moondoggies San Diego 15th
TBA  New Jersey           19th
The Bitter End NYCITY  22nd
The Comedy Club Webster New York  24th-26th

THE LONGEST YARD

                 What's up beautiful people? It's a great day to be alive. Sorry I'm late with this thing but I've been recovering from Strep throat and the weekend in Brea with Rogan. If you came out, thank you and thank you all for the great Birthday wishes.
                 I was feeling shitty last week like we do when a Birthday is around the corner. We think of are past and are mistakes but most importantly we think about the future and what time we have left. When I got into this racket I loved doing Stand up but I also loved movies and television. I always dreamed of being a funny garbage man or cop on a show. I was doing ok in the film and TV world till about 4 years ago when the strike hit and since then it hasn't been the same. Don't get me wrong I still work but not the amount I was doing years ago. Is it my age? My face? My weight? There are always variables involved.
               I came to the conclusion that my acting career was done and between you and me, that's o.k. I've done more than I ever expected to do, I never even expected to be out here longer than 5 years but after 13 years, I'm still here so I must be doing something right. In the middle of all this fucked up thinking I remembered when I was younger and my mom died. There was a house and property and jewelry, but because my mom left no will, it went into probate and years later between the paperwork and this bullshit I got nothing. For years I walked around angry and with a chip on my shoulder than one day it came to me, Fuck it! Why am I waiting on this? I'm going to put it in God's hands and live my life. Why worry about this and mind fuck myself when reality is right in front of me.
              The same thing happened to me last week. I got an epiphany! I hate watching myself on TV or tape or film or whatever. So I never really watch anything I do. If I have to cause I'm at a screening or something, I try to black it out. It's crazy! I could always tell when the movie,"The Longest Yard" is on because people call me and twitter me or they'll come up to me 3 days later and yell, "Can Of Corn", its amazing. Anyway, Sunday morning when I woke up, it was on and I started watching and I remembered little things like what I was feeling while I was shooting the movie, how proud I was. How I made an audition tape and sent it in when they didn't want to see me because they didn't know who I was. How I was only hired for 4 weeks but after 2 days they hired me for the whole movie, I also saw who else was in the movie and how I was right there with them line for line.
               That was when I realized that I had to do the same thing I did 25 years ago with my mothers situation. I'm good at what I do leave it alone, keep doing what your doing but most importantly, put it in God's hands. All I could do is keep writing jokes and doing my podcast to the best of my ability if something happens good, if not I know in my heart I did the best job and gave it the best effort I could. Sometimes you just have to step back to watch the miracle unfold and if it doesn't, the bong is right there. Take a hit and come up with a new idea but why be depressed about something you can't control. Just a reminder because in this fucked up world knowing what I know or better yet what we know we always seem to forget this tidbit about life!
           Have a great week but most importantly remember to Stay Black!

 P.S. The Comedy Club.......Webster New York March 24-26th Come on Down!

FUCKING PICTURE ALBUMS!!

            What's happening beautiful people? I finally made the move over to Blogger per your recommendations, thank you. Sorry I'm late with this thing. First off I was in Scottsdale performing at The Comedy Spot, so I didn't get home till Monday. Then it was Valentines Day and you know how that goes. Then Tuesday I ran around but the truth of the matter was I was scared to write on here. I've been writing on Myspace for years and I feel like a traitor. They were there for me from the beginning when I didn't even know about spell check, I was such a mo-mo.
            This coming Saturday is my Birthday. I usually wouldn't mention it but its been on my mind a lot. I don't really like having parties or anything. I just like going to a good dinner and maybe hanging with some friends, no big deal. Birthdays and parades have always had the same effect on me, after your about 22, they get old. You make plans but you end up getting fucked up and miss the whole thing. Why do you think that is? Birthdays are traumatizing. Its one less year, what the fuck are you celebrating about?
          My birthdays used to rock up when my mom was alive. She would have a big fucking blowout every year at her bar in Union City, New Jersey called, "El Reloj Club".It was in the heart of Cubanville, 29th and Bergenline, up the block from 'Hernandez Cuban Restaurant" and down the block from "The New Moon Chinese Restaurant". Two tremendous restaurants that I frequented as a motherfucker growing up.
        As far back as the age of 4, the party started on Tuesday when my mom would take me to a tailor to get 2 suits made for the occasion. One for the kids party which started at about 3pm and went till about 8pm. Then at 9pm that's when the adult party would start. My mom would get a band, it was usually Farjardo and his Orquestra. But one year it was Tito Puente and another year Celia Cruz showed up. My mom knew her from the old days in Cuba.
      The kids party was a blast, food everywhere, balloons, games, kids crying, all that stuff. The highlight was the pinata, my mom would put cash in there for the kids along with the candy. The adult pinata didn't have cash, it had these little aluminum foils which had Cocaine in them. That's where the real party favor started.
I never knew till I got older and I asked my mom why were adults diving on the floor for candy? She told me to look closely for foils and to pick one up for mommy, I nearly shit my pants, only my mom could think of something like that.
     Every year my mom would hire a professional photographer to take pictures and put them in an album. I would look at them once after the party and forget about them. It was amazing, she had every year till I was 14 and the bar closed. When my mom passed later that year I was forced to move out of that home and never thought once of the albums. I really didn't have room where I was moving too and my step dad wasn't going to sell the house till all the issues got sorted out. I went back to the house from time to time and one day decided to take an album, I don't know why. After that my step dad and I got into it and I never went back. Years later I asked him about them and he said they got thrown out, in a way, it didn't matter because those days were over.
      I think of all those Birthdays and wish I had those albums today, they were my life. I get bummed and couldn't believe I left those things behind. I've decided to do the next best thing. I'll make new albums! I never thought I would make it to this age, who knows how long I'll last but at least I have something to look at in a few years. So, I'm getting a suit, I'm going to dinner with my wife, I'm going to do a few shows and I'll take some pictures of the cats and me, and I'll never have this feeling again, why get down when I could do something about it.
     Thank you for making the move over to this place with me. This blog was a little bland but once I get my groove back I'll start rocking your world again. Have a great week and Stay Black! In the end that's the most important thing!
      
    


      

SWITCHING OVER!

               Greetings cocksuckers! After many comments and much thought I've decided to move my Monday post to Blogger.com. I started writing blogs as an exercise. I can't tell you what it has done for me. I did it so I could learn to write, but little by little I learned about me. Then people started reading it and I went from 40 views to 300 a week in no time. Now the numbers are off the charts, you know why? Because I bare my soul on these Monday blogs. They've never been about dropping names or telling you how smart I am. I tell you my struggles and my pain. At times I felt people would read these things and run away. Some did, but the ones who hung started looking at me a little different. That told me that we of have jokes and funny stories but people want to hear about you and what makes you tick and that's what I try to give you every Monday..
                From these blogs two things have been created, a 1 man show that I will showcase in March and a book which I'm working on as we speak. I never thought that in my life I would write a book, but thanks to your love and comments I've decided to put a little something together which will be the continuation to the 1 man show in a way. Writing these things really opened up a lot of doors in my head believe it or not. As a word of advice if you don't remember certain things from the past write down the things you do remember suddenly shit will start coming back to you, its amazing.
                As far as MySpace, who the hell knows. I wrote my blogs on there because it was convenient and I'm not to good with computers. I will still put something up there also but the main one will go here, every Monday like clockwork. So if you've been reading these things for the last couple of years or months, thank you. Thank you for your kindness for not calling me a fucking dummy but most important for giving me the courtesy and for making someones day which  is also important and second to Staying Black!

Have a great weekend! By the Time we get to Arizona! 480 945 4422