Competition

I'm looking forward to tomorrow night's competition at Martini Blues. It's called "The Ultimate Laffdown VI". And even though part of me is saying "it's just another show" and "it doesn't matter if I advance to the next round", a bigger part of me is saying "bring it on!".

As a friendly reminder, I have no control over how people will vote. The only thing I can do is get up there and give it my best shot. Yeah, I want to advance. If nothing else, for more stagetime. It's also good practice for higher-visibility stuff. In fact, compared to a lot of gigs I've had over the years, this _is_ higher-visibility stuff. And as another comic told me years ago, it's best to approach every show as if it's your Carson spot. That advice may be dated as far as the Carson reference goes, but the sentiment remains valid.

So, to sum things up to this point...

I'm a comic!

I want to do well, and that means going up and having fun. Otherwise, I'd might as well just chain myself into my cubicle and drool myself to death.

It's not that I don't appreciate my day job. I do. It pays the mortgage, keeps food on the table, and stops me from putting too much pressure on myself about "this comedy thing".

But let's face it. I'm hooked. Hook, line, and sinker. I'm getting some old familiar feelings, along with some new ones. The old ones are the usual performance buzz, and the obsession with getting on stage. The new feelings are a kind of confidence I don't recall having "back in the day". Sure, I'd gotten to a point back in the last millenium where I felt good about my abilities as a comic. But it was on shaky ground. And even though I guess performers are always on shaky ground (Oh, oh! Watch the "self-fulfilling prophecy" in that statement!), it was especially shaky towards the end. Once Stephanie and I moved to Hollywood, without a clue about how to nurture a showBIZ career, every step I took felt huge. Every showcase was "the most important thing that ever happened to me". I'd wait months, then if things didn't go perfectly, I'd sulk and whine and suck down a gallon of cheap white wine.

So, what's different now is that I've got the day job, can visit Hollywood for the nurturing of the showBIZ career, and come back home to my loving family.

The showcases I get will still get my blood flowing, but won't disable me if things don't pan-out right away. Things are in a bit healthier perspective now. Tomorrow's competition is just another step along the long and winding road to wherever it is that I'm heading. It's important, otherwise I wouldn't be doing it. But no matter what happens, I'll live to compete another day.

With that said...

BRING IT ON!