An Expose’ on Carrot Top, the kid who did for comedy what Kiss did for Rock and Roll!
Redheads are odd. Being born a redhead myself I have absolutely no qualms about making such a statement. Only one person out of fifteen is a natural redhead. And what about our quirky personalities? Some of the myths about us being hot heads and crafty have been genetically proven to be true. But, hey – we have our good points, too.
One redhead in particular stands out like a flaming comet on a midnight sky. Uniquely quick witted, ultra observant, and sensitive towards mankind, are just a few phrases to describe the captivating talents of Scott Thompson, aka Carrot Top.
Our chance meeting occurred at Gold’s Gym in Venice Beach, CA. He is obsessed with weight training – and he’s got the physique to prove it. Yes, Carrot Top. The comedian who portrays himself to be a 98 pound weakling in his stage act. In reality, this guy is buff. I have never been one to get star struck, but when I first laid eyes on his impressive chest and arms I felt compelled to initiate a conversation.
“You’re famous, aren’t you?” I coyly asked.
“Aw, well, some people think so,” he replied.
Damn. What a cutie-pie. And humble, too.
“I’m Laura.”
“Hi, I’m Scott. You ever tried any of this hot stuff?” he asked as he picked up a spray bottle and began dousing his arm in a potion of liquid cayenne pepper and noxious chemicals. “I hear it will make me more vascular.”
“Oh, dear God! That stuff smells horrible. And you look great already. Why do you want your veins to pop out more?” I hastily replied.
“A girl told me she really liked it when my veins showed more.”
“Well, if you are serious about it, there is a better way. As a matter of fact, I just had an article published in IRONMAN Magazine that tells how orgasms can make you more vascular.”
His eyes widened and he let out a faint gasp. Uh-oh….was I subtly trying to seduce this guy? What had come over me? Must have been those bodacious pecs and his sweet eyes. I also got an immediate feeling about him that he was very compassionate.
“Really?” he finally breathed. “Yeah, because I had sex with a girl once who said ‘Wow! Look at your veins popping out!’ Uh, yeah, I believe you are right about that.”
I went into my schpill about the wondrous health giving effects of the hormones released when we orgasm. Most people lose interest by that time, but I didn’t seem to be boring him. Actually, he asked if we could hook up later that night. Such began the beginning of what I hope to be a beautiful and long-lasting friendship.
A friend and I met Scott later that evening at a small pub on the promenade in Santa Monica. I was so glad he had called like he promised. I truly enjoyed his company, and it was so uplifting to see how congenial he was with all of the fans who said ‘Hello’ as we walked around. They really love this guy, and he reciprocates in true form.
Scott and I chatted over a Heineken, and it didn’t take long for us to begin discussing some of the most intimate details of our lives. I read his palms (on of my many party tricks) and confirmed my thoughts of him. He is an introverted humanitarian, and his personal growth has suffered in the recent past because of a partner he chose. A super nice guy when it comes to dealing with the outside world, but he probably has tendencies to neglect those who are closest to him.
He told me that when I started talking about orgasms at Gold’s it really turned him on. I said, “Yes, I know. I did that on purpose.”
“No! Really? Why me?”
“It must have been your incredible pecs.” Ummmm…was I blushing? I could hardly look this guy in the eye! Compose…compose….
I was pooped from the flight and I had to be in San Diego the next morning. My acquaintance that had intrudingly tagged along with us lived far away, so Scott graciously offered for me to stay at his condo in Pallas Verdes that night since he had to be somewhere else. What a sweetheart!
Radical condo. The décor reflected Scott’s personality perfectly through brightly colored furniture and various fanatical collages created by Scott’s manager….mostly of magazine shots of naked women and Scott’s press photos. There was a perfect view of the mountains and Pacific ocean.
I was disappointed that I didn’t get to see Scott anymore that weekend, but I remembered him mentioning that the Carrot Top Tour would kick off at the University of South Alabama on February 2. My editors at IronMan and Penthouse are big CT fans, so they encouraged me to make the three hour drive to see this guy first hand and give them the scoop.
Scott’s publicist, Jeff Abraham of Jonas Public Relations, made arrangements for me to have a ticket for the performance and a backstage pass. I drove into the campus thirty minutes late, but people from all walks of life were still pouring into the arena. All types of cultures, races, and generations were represented. And they all were wearing the biggest smiles and walking as quickly as they could so as not to miss one more second of the act. This was a good sign. I hate to admit it, but I was a little leery of seeing his act. I always ended up channel surfing instead of watching him on television. Seeing the hoarding crowd increased my desire to see the performance…but geez! Where the hell was I going to park? There were no parking spaces to be seen. Finally I found one in BFE. “This guy better be worth a mile’s walk in the bitter cold,” I thought as I tightened my grip on my coat.
As I approached the arena I could hear roars of laughter and jamming music that shook the ground. I wasn’t prepared for what would follow. I found my seat to Scott’s left. He was wearing a form-fitting orange top that showed off his guns perfectly. He moved so confidently and effortlessly around the stage…was this really the same quiet man I met a few weeks ago?
The stage was packed with psychedelic leopard print trunks – at least 20 of them. Some of them even had neon lights flashing on them, but they were all overflowing with gizmos and gadgets of Scott’s own clever design that made you stop, think, and then nearly die laughing about some of the most common objects.
He had invented an Etch-A-Sketch electoral ballot for Floridians, a baseball bat with a built in charge card swiper for Alex Rodriquez, and boots with built in kickstands for those rednecks who can’t hold their liquor very well.
The humor flowed like manna from heaven for all of us in the audience starving for good natured comedy. There were no racists remarks and no political agendas. The only group of people that could have been offended would have been the rednecks. But we were in the heart of RedNeckVille, and everyone was laughing it up at every joke that poked fun at their lifestyle. Like the palm-pilot for rednecks: a wrist band with a pen attached to it with a string. To delete any information you write on your hand, simply lick and rub. Or how about the long rectangular sand buckets for the rednecks who want to build sand trailers on the beach?
Sure, we all had stitches in our sides from the constant flow of humorous stimulation, but Scott’s antics also caused me to become introspective for a while.
What an incredibly insightful person this clown must be to look through the obvious and create such entertaining and thought-provoking ideas. Wait a minute….Carrot Top, a philosopher? Well, yeah, actually in a screwed up quirky kind of way this comedian is lighting the way for a new generation of folks who do not need hate or vulgarity to fuel their laughter and fun.
Don’t get me wrong, though. He uses his fair share of slang and some of his props are a bit risqué, but Scott is the perfect person to trail blaze such a turn in comedy because he is so real. He interacts with the audience on their level – whatever that level may be. He’s a chameleon of sorts, so he adapts to the prevailing personalities, yet keeps his own special flavor to spice up the show. People appreciate a performer whose main purpose is to entertain them instead of pumping him/herself up at their expense. Judging from the audience’s reactions, people have had enough of the egotistical, blow holes who strut around on stage passing out insults and reeking of condensation.
Scott loves what he does, and he bends over backward to make sure his fans are pleased. His sweet nature shines through brilliantly when he presents a certain prop and it doesn’t get his desired reaction. “Oh, okay, well, that one sucked…I’ll just put it in this pile over here. How about this one…?”
The Carrot Top crew is swift when it comes to improv-ing, too. Whether the crowd yells out a question or Scott seemingly misses a cue, you would think it was all part of the act by the way they pull it off so facilely with snappy comebacks and inventive special effects.
The lights, fireworks, air machines, and sound bytes make the atmosphere electric at a Carrot Top performance. You almost feel like you are at a rock concert rather than a comedy show. It’s been said that Carrot Top has done for comedy what Kiss did for Rock and Roll. I was wrong to think all I was going to see was a freaky redhead running back and forth with silly props. Scott had the entire audience and me on the edge of our seats panting for more and more of his witticism. He is also very accomplished as an impersonator of musicians. Those he can’t, or chooses not to impersonate, he makes up for using his brilliant wit.
Take Brittany Spears, for instance. Instead of impersonating her directly, he re-vamps her hottest hits and sings them like Metalica or the B-52’s. “Hey! You think her songs are pretty fucking cool now, don’t you?” he taunts the awed audience.
The finale blew everyone away. The energy this kid has is mind-boggling in and of itself. He pantomimed a composition of popular hits from Michael Jackson to Madonna to KISS to Aerosmith and all points in between. We really had to pay attention so as not to miss a beat. He changed costumes in the blink of an eye. The laser light show on the ___ foot screen kept time with his songs, antics, and dancing. The music was pumping, the crowd was laughing and clapping – some even got up and danced – and I stood in the back and absorbed the entire scene like a sponge. Lights flashed, fireworks blasted, the music pounded, and Scott’s boundless energy kept me breathless. I was completely overwhelmed. The entire experience was surreal and nearly orgasmic. I felt completely entertained.
The final fireworks exploded, the music crescendoed, and the excited crowd was pulled to their feet with a standing ovation as Scott ran off the stage. Wow….got a cigarette?
I felt so proud of him. I had no idea how extraordinarily talented this man was until that night. I wanted to swing from the rafters and yell out, “Carrot Top is a friend of mine!” But I bit my lip and pressed myself harder against the cold concrete wall as I listened to the various comments the crowd made as they shuffled hesitantly out the door. “That guy is funny as shit!” “I didn’t know he could sing and dance!” “I can’t wait to see him again!” They loved him and they wanted more.
I had a tough time getting my back stage pass. Everyone on the crew immediately became very busy tearing down the set and packing up. Finally I was directed to a banquet room where Scott was going to have a meet and greet with the college kids who helped arrange the show. The anxious young adults gathered together on one side of the room as they waited for their comedic idol. I stood over in a corner making notes and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.
Finally he came in looking very cool in blue jean shorts and a plain white t-shirt. He was so down to earth with the kids. From what the head coordinator of the event told me, Scott took time for every single interview they wanted him to do and made time for every single person that requested a meeting with him. He is definitely a humanitarian.
As the last few fans began to leave I walked towards him.
“Hi, Scott. Great performance.” I said as we gave each other a very awkward hug. He had a few other people to meet, so he asked if I could wait again in the banquet room. No problem….at least he didn’t blow me off.
He came back quick enough and invited me to his dressing room. There were tons of trunks and suitcases bursting with make-up and paraphernalia for the show and gifts from his fans. I was disappointed to learn that they were leaving for Atlanta in about an hour. But regrets would have to wait…there was business to conduct.
We walked with his entourage to his tour bus. Some college girls were waiting there for him…grinning from ear to ear. Scott invited me to go on into the bus while he visited with his groupies.
Nice bus. Lots of modern technology incorporated into a smooth luxurious ride. Scott came in after a short while and we got busy with the interview. We drank a beer together since we couldn’t find a wine key…but I would have been happy with warm tap water He instilled warmth, compassion, and joyfulness in me. The interview was over way too quickly, but the clock was ticking for him. He said, “I don’t know about you, but that was the best interview I have ever had.”
The crew members were boarding, so I took that as my cue to leave. I told Scott when I would be back in LA, and he said he’d probably be there then, too.
“Well, you know how to get in touch with me through my publicist.”
“I don’t like calling guys.”
“No, I mean for the rest of the interview.”
“Oh, yeah…the interview.” I sadly replied.
It seemed that we were just going to be casual acquaintances. So, I hugged him while I wished him luck with the tour. Then I bundled up for my long trek back to my car.
Regardless, remember that the Carrot Top Show is one you don’t want to miss…unless you have something against laughing and having the time of your life. I’m sure you will equally impressed with the oddest, yet most fabulous redhead on this planet. Check out his tour schedule on Carrott Top website. That’s how I keep track of him. But please don’t bug his road manager or publicist. I would like to keep those lines of communication open….you know, just in case…..
To buy Laura Moore’s book Sex Heals go to her website at the Healthy Sexy Mom
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