Tomorrow I’m driving to New Orleans. I’m supposed to be on the road by 9am. I had two cups of coffee with my cheese ‘n eggs at the Waffle House. Guess who’s not sleeping much tonight.
I’m not really a personal blogger. When I’m at home I write about politics and world events and what ever I feel like. I would write about my life but that’s it: writing jokes about politics and jokes and whatever I feel like. On the road is different because the only thing I’m focused on is the work. I’m seeing that these posts from the road are more like a peek in the green room than I planned for.
With that being said, I have FINALLY come to peace with last Friday. It was a bumpy road for that destination.
I suspected at my very first open mike that I was opening a Pandora’s Box. I kind of knew that I was going to be doing this. I resisted it for a while. I wanted to do anything but be on that stage. Once I did – that was it. I did 100 open mikes in 3 months. I was going to do anything I could to get over my stage fright. I read anything I could get a hold of about stand up. Listened to anyone that had been doing it longer than me. I have piles and piles of notebooks of jokes. Every time I filled one, I felt a sense of accomplishment (note: for every 1 joke I have in my act, there are 100 that didn’t make the cut). Then I started getting paying work. It’s been SLOW. I didn’t wake up one morning and THINK I was a comic. It’s taken YEARS of hard work to earn the title.
If someone knows of someone that was BORN funny and got on stage ONCE and then headlined Vegas the next day – shoot me an email. I would love to hate them up close.
I was trying to get to the part where I let go of my stinky show on Friday.
What I realized:
-I’m not famous enough for suicide.
-I’ll work in this town again.
-There are no other road comics that look like me and do my type of material. NONE.