by Neil W. McCabe

A nationally known comic, who was born and raised in Somerville, who once played a gorilla in a suitcase commercial, led two nights of laugh Aug. 12 and 13 at the Tingle’s in Davis Square.

“I attended St. Joseph’s Church in Union Square—a parish untouched by scandal—so far,” said Tony V., who performed with the Walsh Brothers Aug. 12 and Joe Wong Aug. 13.

[Note to Emily: This is a review of just the Aug. 13 show, which is too bad because the reviewer would have loved another press pass to see the Walsh Brothers, the geniuses behind the legendary “Great and Secret Comedy Show.”]

Tony V. said he not meant for a career in social work, which is how he earned his living before committing to comedy full-time.

Being a nut and bolts guy, he was to direct when he would present his supervisors with a diagnosis of a family’s problems, he said.

In one case he thought the problem was simple. “The father’s an asshole,” he said.

“They would tell me: ‘You can’t say that,’” he said. “Yeah, but everybody would be better off if he’d leave.”

When his supervisor asked him to develop a treatment plan for the family, Tony V. said he was just as direct. “I should go over there and beat the shit out of him.”

Emily Singer, who just joined the Off-Broadway team this summer, stood in for Jimmy Tingle with aplomb. When he introduced her, Tony V. explained to the audience that the show would operate like a talk show, so after her routine, he was going to interview her.

Singer has a very dry, understated delivery, so that her jokes sneak up on you. Warming to a regular fixture in Davis Square, Singer said she has empathy for the homeless. But, she resents the professional homeless, especially the one woman who had her rap down too perfect. “Spare change? Have a nice day. Check out my Web site.”

She checked out the Web site, she said. “A lot of shopping carts.”

Singer said she has a problem with signs. Once she went into a store and saw a sign that read: Everything is 50% off. “Now, I have been told that I was a little bit off, but never by such a precise ratio,” she said.

She saw another sign that read: Full Body Massage. Walk-ins Welcome, she said. “Now, I walked in on several, and I was not welcome.”

At the end of her set, Tony V. invited Singer back onstage as promised for the talk show segment. Sitting on tall wooden stools, the two chatted about their earlier experiences in show business.

Tony V. said when he was in 6th grade at the St. Joseph’s School, he starred as Marco Polo. The only problem was that he had to wear tights borrowed from his cousin Cheryl. The tights were too big, but there was the janitor who a little too happily helped him fit in to them.

When she was younger, Singer said she played a pumpkin. Her costume was a giant pumpkin with a circle cutout for her face in the center and orange tights.

“The wearing of tights is one of the things you have to do if you want to be an actor,” said Tony V.

The next up was Joe Wong. Introducing him, Tony V. said that had performed with him previous Wednesday at Rick Jenkins’ Comedy Studio in Harvard Square and that Wong is scheduled to perform with him at the Hynes Convention Center for First Night 2005.

Wong grew up in China and while most of his humor deals with figuring out America or explaining China, more and more he has worked in personal material that does not depend on culture clash.

Driving was on Wong’s mind that night. He said when he got his driver’s license; he signed up to donate an organ: his brain.

He said he loved the idea of a complete stranger waking up from a coma speaking Chinese.

If you had told him 10 years ago, when he came to this country he would own his own car, Wong said he would not have believed you. “Now, I can’t believe the shit box I drive.”

It is a 1988 Geo Metro, which is one of God’s jokes on poor people.

Once while he was driving, a police officer pulled Wong over to ask him why he was driving in the breakdown lane. “I told him, ‘If losing my girlfriend and my job isn’t enough, this traffic ticket should do it.”

Wong’s father once told him that growing up his father’s family was poor, but they had a rich inner life. Wong said he did not believe him.

Besides, he said he thinks it is hard for the poor to thank God without sounding sarcastic. “Thank you for this bountiful meal of one bowl of rice and a potato for a family of 10.”

At the end of Wong’s routine, like before Tony V. invited Singer and Wong to join him for a talk show segment. Wong told Tony V. that he came to America as a student and is now works for a bio-tech company. This makes his two lives very different because during the day he often working alone in a laboratory in a serious atmosphere, especially when he is working on cancer research. Then, at night he is surrounded by an audience and telling them jokes.

For the last stanza, Tony V. was on a mad rip. Family life is still an adjustment for him. Recently, he told his wife she was right. “Sit there and watch T.V., when there is a house to be painted? I must be insane! Thank God, you came along, my love.”

Being a father, he said was interesting, especially the unequal way he treats his son and his daughter. If his son could come up to him all banged up and holding his an eye in his hand, it would not change. “Walk it off, you big pussy. Your sister needs a cookie.”

Canada came up, when he was saying how you know you are way up north with you start to see signs for different countries. “Canada? Isn’t that where Americans have to go now to smoke?

“It is a country we allow to be—but if we ever run out of trees—they are screwed!” he said.

The country itself is a cultural mish-mash, and they have no food, he said. “Except bacon and the ginger ale that’s it.

“You have never heard anyone say, ‘What do you wanna get? Italian? Chinese? Hey, let’s get Canadian.”

It was getting late, and Tony V. said he was concerned about the Davis Square curfew, but before he wrapped up the show, he asked if there was anyone in the audience that wanted to be interviewed.

A tall bespectacled man raised his hand and Tony V. invited him up.

The man, who at first said he was Mike from Lexington, told Tony V. he was a sports columnist Michael Gee.

Gee said his own son was to be a comedian, but the 15-year-old was to shy to come up.

Sitting with the sportswriter, Tony V. became a 15-year-old himself when he said he was amazed that Gee could see the Red Sox all the time for free. Then, he regained his perspective when he observed that for Gee it is a job.

When Tony V. asked him if he enjoys the games, Gee said the rule in the press box is that you not allowed cheering or booing for the players or teams. But, you are allowed to boo extra innings and cheer a quick game.

After the show, in his dressing room, Tony V. reminisced with Cibeline model Julia J. Cruz and WBOS afternoon drive time host, Neal Roberts about his childhood in Somerville.

Growing up in Union Square, Tony V. said he and his friends spent a lot of time on Prospect Hill and the climbing up the side of the tower.

There was an old man at the tower whose job was to take down the flag and lock up. Tony V. and his friends would try to hide inside and get locked in overnight. “But, he always knew we were there. He’d call out, ‘Come on, boys, you gotta get out,’” he said.

Another time, when he was 12 or 13, they made a giant snowball. “It was 15 feet high, it was so high we had to roll it up to the tower, so we could get on and sit on it,” he said.

Not knowing what else to do, the boys pushed the giant snowball, and got it rolling down the hill, he said. The snowball became a glacial juggernaut. “As it got rolling, the snowball went faster and faster; picking up chunks of grass and dirt and doubling in size.”

Finally at the bottom, the snowball crashed like an asteroid destroying a fence and breaking a tree, he said.

As a young man, Tony V. had two passions, comedy and politics, he said. In 1980, he was the manager for Michael E. Capuano first campaign for mayor, which was a three-way race with two other candidates, the incumbent, Thomas F. August and the winner, Eugene C. Brune.

Although Capuano lost, Tony V. said he was up for a city job because of a pact made between Brune and Capuano that whoever lost the primary would support the other against August.

As a social worker with a degree in the field, Brune offered him the job of assistant director of human services.

To get the job, Tony V. had to meet with the incoming human services director, just to make sure the two men could get along. Turning to Roberts and Cruz, he said, “I’m not going to tell you his name, because he is still around. But, four minutes into listening to this guy, I said to myself, ‘If I have to work for this guy, I’ll kill myself.’” It was at that moment he committed himself to a career in comedy, leaving politics and social work behind.

After the story, Emily Singer poked her head in the room to coax everyone out of the building so the alarm could be set for the night. All the way up the stairs, Tony V. refused to divulge the human director’s name.

Out on the sidewalk outside the Tingle’s, there were still audience members retelling the jokes to each other. Many of them were Somerville friends of his, and they called out and waved to him as he, Roberts and Cruz headed toward The Burren.

In the crowd was Ward 6 Alderman John “Jack” M. Connolly. “What a great show,” said Connolly. “Did he tell you the time he was supposed to work for John Buonomo?”