Branson Kicked My Ass
(And the French Toast Was Worth It)
News4U Evansville
Danny Browning
Branson kicked my ass.
As a seasoned road comic and world traveler, I thought I'd seen it all. I mean, I've dealt with hecklers in the worst dive bars, survived fundraisers in gymnasiums with the acoustics of hell itself, and once had to perform next to a mechanical bull mid-ride. But nothing prepared me for Branson, Missouri.
Driving through Missouri is the absolute worst. I don't know what's in the water, but I experienced an influx of interstate drivers going below the speed limit in the fast lane. I'm confident that if they knew that they were inconveniencing me, they would promptly move over. Once I got to Branson, it was worse. It's not an exaggeration to say I hit a 30-minute traffic jam two minutes from my hotel. I could literally see people enjoying a free continental breakfast, while I sat there breathing in the exhaust of the Ram truck in front of me.
Once I arrived at the hotel, I discovered it was a waterpark hotel! Which means, I shared the hallway with no less than 4000 children, 500 wet towels, and 50 empty pizza boxes. The whole floor reeked of fresh garlic and dirty feet. Also, there's nothing more peaceful than hearing young children racing down the hallway, screaming "CANNONBALL!" when they're not even anywhere near the pool.
The good news of all of this is that I was fortunate enough to be headlining at a new comedy club called the Branson Comedy Factory. The bad news is that my competition was comedy legend Yakov Smirnoff and a group that calls itself the "Bald Knobbers." As luck would have it, all of our shows were full of people ready to laugh. However, none of them told me that I was funnier than the knobber guys.
The absolute best thing about Branson is the food. I bought fudge from a man who was dressed like Elvis. Where else in the world does that happen? He also offered to sell me some tickets to a biblical laser light show called "Let There Be Lights."
The buffets are also legendary. I enjoyed freshly made French toast for 4 days in a row. What's worse, I knew it wasn't good for me, and I didn't even care. Extra syrup? Yes, please. They even had a buffet at the car repair shop. I got my tires rotated with two helpings of scrambled eggs. It felt so normal. That's how Branson gets you.
By the end of the trip, I realized that Branson is where guys like me go to learn humility. I came in confident but left with a suitcase full of damp socks and breakfast regret. I have a deeper respect for Yakov, the Knobbers, and any other performers who successfully survive in Branson while keeping at least some of their dignity intact.
Now, pass the syrup.
As a seasoned road comic and world traveler, I thought I'd seen it all. I mean, I've dealt with hecklers in the worst dive bars, survived fundraisers in gymnasiums with the acoustics of hell itself, and once had to perform next to a mechanical bull mid-ride. But nothing prepared me for Branson, Missouri.
Driving through Missouri is the absolute worst. I don't know what's in the water, but I experienced an influx of interstate drivers going below the speed limit in the fast lane. I'm confident that if they knew that they were inconveniencing me, they would promptly move over. Once I got to Branson, it was worse. It's not an exaggeration to say I hit a 30-minute traffic jam two minutes from my hotel. I could literally see people enjoying a free continental breakfast, while I sat there breathing in the exhaust of the Ram truck in front of me.
Once I arrived at the hotel, I discovered it was a waterpark hotel! Which means, I shared the hallway with no less than 4000 children, 500 wet towels, and 50 empty pizza boxes. The whole floor reeked of fresh garlic and dirty feet. Also, there's nothing more peaceful than hearing young children racing down the hallway, screaming "CANNONBALL!" when they're not even anywhere near the pool.
The good news of all of this is that I was fortunate enough to be headlining at a new comedy club called the Branson Comedy Factory. The bad news is that my competition was comedy legend Yakov Smirnoff and a group that calls itself the "Bald Knobbers." As luck would have it, all of our shows were full of people ready to laugh. However, none of them told me that I was funnier than the knobber guys.
The absolute best thing about Branson is the food. I bought fudge from a man who was dressed like Elvis. Where else in the world does that happen? He also offered to sell me some tickets to a biblical laser light show called "Let There Be Lights."
The buffets are also legendary. I enjoyed freshly made French toast for 4 days in a row. What's worse, I knew it wasn't good for me, and I didn't even care. Extra syrup? Yes, please. They even had a buffet at the car repair shop. I got my tires rotated with two helpings of scrambled eggs. It felt so normal. That's how Branson gets you.
By the end of the trip, I realized that Branson is where guys like me go to learn humility. I came in confident but left with a suitcase full of damp socks and breakfast regret. I have a deeper respect for Yakov, the Knobbers, and any other performers who successfully survive in Branson while keeping at least some of their dignity intact.
Now, pass the syrup.
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Danny Browning is a nationally touring stand-up comedian, clean corporate entertainer, and humor columnist for News4U Evansville. Based in Southern Indiana, he performs comedy for corporate events, nonprofit fundraisers, galas, comedy clubs, and office holiday parties throughout Louisville, Indianapolis, Evansville, Cincinnati, and beyond.
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Danny Browning | Comedian, Humorist & Monthly Troublemaker for News4U Evansville