How I Learned To Love Drag Part 1

My day had begun with my arrival at the Comedy Network's studio, located in an industrial area of Burnaby, a suburb of Vancouver. A place of perpetual rain in the winter, Noah saw less precipitation when it rained for forty days and forty nights.

An architectural eyesore, the television studio fit right in with the other 1960s vintage warehouses because that's what the studio was before it was converted a few years ago - a car parts warehouse.

So when I walked through the side entrance on a bright sunny July morning, I almost had the feeling I was in the wrong place.

But the Comedy Network office actually looked decent. It looked like a real place of business - high tech communications equipment, track lighting, solid oak furniture, and hardwood flooring. And thankfully, it was air-conditioned.

An attractive receptionist welcomed me. After exchanging greetings, she buzzed the producer on the intercom and then she led me down the hall to his office.

"Ah, Sean Davidson, good to see you."

"Hello Ted," I replied as we shook hands.

Ted Walters, fortyish, short, bespectacled, casually dressed, friendly and fatherly, kind of reminded me of Rick Moranis in Honey I Shrunk the Kids.

"You're looking good," he said. "You're looking fit and trim. And that big grin on your face tells me you can't wait to get started."

"Thank you. I am really looking forward to this."

"Well, let me introduce you to the other guys," said Ted as he looked at his watch. "We've got a bull session scheduled to start in a few minutes."

"A bull session?"

"Brainstorming meeting. We dream up skit ideas for the next show."

Ted took me into another part of the cavernous building.

In a large, well-appointed meeting room were the other core people. Director Aaron Spacek - they called him the Space Cadet. He was a thirty-something irreverent free spirit. He looked like Pee Wee Herman on steroids.