MATT PRICE: Yes. This is a true story based on a neighbor who I affectionately call "Crazypants." But in fairness to her, I think I'm also Crazypants because I never talked to her about the things that bothered me. I just didn't think that I could speak logically with her. But if you could speak logically with her, she wouldn't be Crazypants. She'd be Logicalpants. And that was not the case.
Where were you living?
To protect the identity of Crazypants, I'd rather not say. But if you roll down your car window and listen for the sounds of Smooth Jazz 94.7 The Wave, you'll find the house. She liked to blast smooth jazz from her radio from morning till night. To this day, whenever I hear Kenny G, I start shaking uncontrollably.
Many of us have had crazy neighbors. What makes your neighbor worth doing a whole show about?
Well, the show isn't just about her. She definitely provides the backbone of the show, and she is fascinating, but the show is also about how my girlfriend and I moved in together and how nervous we were about that. It's about how I don't like confrontation, which often causes me to have fake arguments in the shower, as well as other semi-confrontational events like fake presidential press conferences. It's about how I'm drawn to characters like Crazypants in large part, I think, because my mom is a puppeteer, and when I was growing up, we always had bizarre kids' party performers sleeping in our basement. There was a guy who we called the Animal Man because he had a truck full of animals that he showed at schools and parties. How can you not be attracted to people like Crazypants when you grew up with a man who let an ostrich roam free in your backyard?
Are you still neighbors with her?
No, we no longer live next to Crazypants. We found a new place, and during our search, my first question to the Realtor was always about the neighbors. When I lived in New York, that didn't matter as much because the neighbor noise contributed to the din of the city, which helped you sleep. But in Los Angeles, there is no din. Only the heavy silence of broken dreams. And that silence can easily be shattered by an obnoxious neighbor, as we found out the hard way with Crazypants.
Has she heard about the show?
I certainly didn't go over and tell her. But even if I did, she'd just make fun of me somehow. "You're doing a show at the Comedy Central Stage? I guess anyone can go up there and perform, huh?"
How do you think she would react if she saw it?
She once told me that she saw me in a movie while she was channel-surfing. I waited awkwardly for the compliment-less moment to pass. Then she told me that she really didn't like the movie, that it was too slow, and how she didn't understand what passed for entertainment these days. She'd probably say the same about this show. Or she'd call me an idiot and make fun of my hair. She did that a lot, too.
Can you give us a highlight of Crazypants?
My wife and I lived on the bottom floor of a duplex, and at one point, a woman with a cockatoo lived above us. The cockatoo squawked all the time. Crazypants hated it and squawked right back. Doing the Crazypants/pet bird squawking fight is a highlight for me now, even though back then it was a very lowlight. Also, Crazypants made fun of me constantly. So if you like seeing me belittle myself from the perspective of a woman in a terrycloth robe, then this thing is a nonstop highlight reel.
Matt Price in Crazypants at the Comedy Central Stage, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hlywd.; Wed., Sept. 21, 8 p.m.; free, resv. required. (323) 960-5519.