This Christmas, my parents challenged all their children with one simple request - “All we want for Christmas is an act of service given to someone in need.”  Instead of buying them a gift (and really, what do you get an attorney and his beautiful wife, my mom, who honestly have pretty much everything they need already - an iPod?  A wafflemaker?) , we were told to record the act of kindness and share it with them for Christmas.  So, this month I’ve been working diligently to complete that request - which brings me to this weekend’s shows.

To begin with, Saturday night I performed at Club TRiP in Santa Monica, with a number of young comedians, at a Toys-4-Tots Benefit Concert and Comedy Show.  It was a lot of fun - the stand-up comedians were genuinely funny and the evening was filled with a ton of random goodness.  The wildest moment was at right around midnight when a drunk and (who I can only guess) homeless woman, somehow found an unplugged microphone and jumped up on-stage in an attempt to give a very passionate, and uninvited, set of backup vocals.  It sounded much like you would expect the speaking in tongues to be at some Pentecostal revival and so, in true Kevin Burdick form, I just rolled with it.  The end result was an improvised song about Whitney’s Houston crack addiction and a number of “Where’s Bobby” references.  The audience howled with laughter and at the end of the improv song, the staff escorted the crazy woman out of the bar.  By the end of the night we had an entire stack of toys donated for the kids, which I felt really great about, and the people who attended exclaimed it was “one of the funniest shows they’d seen in a while.”

Sunday night, specifically, I was able to complete the “Christmas service” task that my parents had requested.  Earlier in the month I had Ken track down a list of retirement homes in the area and we found one near us, the Sherman Oaks Retirement Center, that said they would love to have us come perform for their guests and their families.  We arrived to find a grand piano surrounded by a group of mostly beautiful, older women waiting for their music man.  I kept to a 45-minute low-key set (didn’t sing “We are the Walking Wounded” for example) and then spent a good 45 minutes visiting with my new friends at the home.  The staff informed Ken that I was the ”most talented performer that they’d ever had out…”  Though, Ken did say he overheard one elderly woman with hearing aids complaining that I was “the worst musician she’d ever seen - terrible, just terrible.”  I got a good laugh out of that - I guess you can’t win them all.  After the show I grabbed some dinner and then drove home where I quickly drifted off to sleep, content with that Christmas feeling that I’d done something mostly selfless, and totally rewarding.

A big Happy Holidays to friends, fans, and family!!  I love you all and want you to have a very merry and very safe rest of 2008!!

The Hell’s Eve show at Club TRiP in Santa Monica was one of those wild adventures that, if you were one of the lucky few to attend, you will probably be telling your grand-children about.  I performed the second half of the show as Michael Phelps:  including speedo, shiny jacket, 8 gold medals, swim cap, goggles, and removal of most of my body hair.  I take my Halloween costumes very seriously!  Through out the night I gave away my gold medals to fans and friends for best costume, most energy, and biggest support.  Even my drummer, Dylan, got one for commitment to excellence, as he had the unfortunate position of staring at my green speedo covered butt all night… but I digress.

The show was a huge hit for those who attended and I know I made a few new fans.  The improv songs were, as usual, silly and fun - “The ladies just don’t know who Burt Reynolds is anymore…” and “Waves Against the Shore.”  Weird suggestions, but I made the most of them.

Those who stayed until the final song witnessed me removing my jacket, throwing off my last 2 medals, and playing “Mercy” in just my speedo.  Some people might call me crazy, or even drunk, but in reality I make myself vulnerable every night on stage by pouring my heart into the true stories I tell with my music.  I figure, shirt or no shirt, you really can’t get any more naked than that anyway.