The Hēathernet 20oz. to Geekdom

TDOWT…W!?: Tom Shillue is stalking me

(The Department of What the... What!?: Sometimes something will strike The Heathernet as so ridiculously off that it needs to be instantly commented on. The TDOWT...W!? chronicles these abuses of our minds.)

Tom Shillue is stalking my mind. Tom Shillue, the comedian, is stalking me. 

I can't imagine this is easy for Tom to do and considering the variety of ways he's taking to the task I applaud his efforts. Read on for the wild details:

My introduction to Tom was simple, normal, and subversive. Tom's Comedy Central Special was just one of 30 on a community television set. This took place sometime during my first year at Oswego in the room known, as the great Michael Kelly would put it in an ever so inebriated fashion during Bridge Street Run 2006, as good ol' fiiiive twenty fiiiive. Stand up comics were a popular televised feature in that room, as the special clicked by during this particular Comedy Central marathon the various floor occupants would come and go, dispensing their expertise: "Seen this one, it's alright." "Wait for this part here." "We saw him live in the city and it was ridiculous."

Tom had been seen before, too. He was, "pretty good," with "a couple of funny parts." I don't know what it was but I really liked him. This wasn't pristine and crisp comedy but it wasn't glaringly in the gutter either. He had stories, a lot of stories about watching TV, and I relate to that. In my mind I bookmarked him. I even went on to subscribe to his podcast for a bit. I'm sure we could call this a post at this point and you'd be satisfied that you have a new comic to check out. Pssh, this is where it gets downright whacky.

It is now 2008, a good three years later. It must have taken some intense planning in those three years to get this coincidence assault Shillue is shellacking me with now fully operational. I am good friends with a family of barbershoppers. (Jason is one of those culprits, Jordan may be joining us soon, and their dad is the ringleader.) After years of talk about this fun and harmonic hobby I finally got the chance to attend a convention with the family. We sat in the back of a beautiful hall in Lowell, Massachusetts and watched the remaining foursomes duke it out with tight (or not so tight) harmonies and tenacious hangers (or sometimes crash-and-burners). It was a great experience but I had not thought to bring my glasses and it was a squint-fest trying to keep the singers faces from going fuzzy. 

Despite this, during the show, the lead from one of the quartets not competing looked incredibly familiar. Perhaps even more fascinating to me was that although I could only hear him sing he sounded familiar. I was damn sure it was Tom Shillue. With the help of my iPhone I quickly confirmed it.

Later that night the family and I puttered around the afterglow, a time where the hotel is turned into a barbershop dormitory on a drunken friday night with the beer pong replaced by four part harmony. We sat for a bit in a libation supplying room to watch some performing quartets. I had a seat by the door with sight lines to a couple of coolers. Tom, yes that Tom, popped his head in the door, snaked his gaze past Jordan who was beside me, and asked me something about the coolers. The truth was that I could not hear him well in the atmosphere and barely registered that it was even a query. While I sat contemplating how to say "what?" and still sound intelligent Jordan answered his question still hanging in the air. Tom looked at Jordan briefly, seemingly satisfied at getting an answer but not at the answer given and then looked back to me. Smoothly he held up two fingers and indicated my eyes, drawing dotted lines away from them and towards the singers I was watching, said, "It's cool, stay focused," and slipped back outside.

Now it is tonight. I wanted to normalize my sleep schedule and rest up for the big day, so I planned an early retreat to my bed this evening. I like to read a little news on my iPhone before I go to bed but tonight I decided to try something a little different, podcasts. To my delight there was a couple of episodes of Car Talk available from NPR and I snapped them right up. That's something I know however, and I wanted something new. I poked around under sports and Mayne Street with Kenny Mayne looked like an interesting video podcast to try. I selected a single episode to try out.

Well, see for yourself. Two men begin marching toward you in the clips opening scene. The man on the right? Tom Shillue! Stalking me in my very bed.

So in this post, Tom, I give in to your demands. Clearly you want something and I will provide. I only ask one favor. Can you get me a job at ESPN using the contacts you made? 

Thanks, Tom, and see you soon!