I'm taking stock of where I've been and where I'm going. I've been performing at two or three open mics a week and doing about one performance every 10 days. This is pretty sweet for a newbie, so why aren't I happier? Sometimes I pursue gigs and sometimes gigs pursues me. I love the latter; the former not so much. The latter is an ego boost, the former produces mixed results. When you ask and they say yes, it's great. When you ask and they hem and haw, tell you that their schedule is booked for months or simply don't respond, it feels awful. This is true especially when the producers you ask are other comedians who have seen you perform. This isn't good for someone who still recalls feeling left out at the junior high lunch table. After all, isn't a comedy performance just another way of trying to prove your worth and gain acceptance?
I have two performances in New York City this month; one is by invitation from Joe Matarese, a headlining comedian who appears on TV and the other is a "bringer" show where anyone can perform as long as he or she can convince four paying customers to attend. If I had a dog, he could do a "bringer" show, even if he wasn't that funny. I'm very proud that Joe wants me for the first and feel neutral about the second since I didn't do anything to earn it. Still, on the off chance that a producer is there who may want to give me a real guest spot at another time, it's worth my while. I just have to keep from feeling bad if it doesn't happen.
I sometimes ask myself, after working in a cut-throat profession, why I picked an activity in my retirement that puts my ego on the line every time I get up to perform or ask a producer for a spot. NFI.
But I had several people come up to me last night after a successful performance at an open mic and say all the right things to me that keep me at it. Now if I could only figure out, after 40 years, how to keep from feeling crushed about the junior high school lunch table.
