Free Will? Hah! (Stand-Up Comedy Urges Strike Again)

Free will may be the biggest joke of all.

Would you like me to explain?

Well, like it or not, I'm going to.

Earlier this year, I made the declaration that I _was_ a stand-up comic.  I'd put it in my past.  That was it.  No need to keep the urges lingering.

Yeah, right.

When will I learn?

How many times do I have to declare that I've quit doing something before I realize that as long as I'm alive, there's always the chance that I'll eventually go back to doing the thing that I've supposedly "quit"?

When I declared that I was quitting stand-up, it wasn't a huge de-committal on my part.  I hadn't been on stage for quite a while.  So, it wasn't like anybody was going to notice.

Hell... I barely noticed.

The declaration was an attempt at not spending any more of my energy even thinking about the possibility of being a comedian anymore.   Not on stage, anyway.  I'll always be a comedian in real life...

Whether I choose to be or not.

Free will?  Hah!

This most recent declaration wasn't the all-encompassing "quitting" that I've been foolish enough to declare in the past.  There was a time when I declared I was no longer going to do _anything_ in the entertainment industry.

At least I'm not that foolish anymore.

Several years ago, I realized that in one form or another, I'd like to keep performing indefinitely.  Whether it be comedy, acting, music...

I'm going to keep performing for the rest of my life.

At times, I may go weeks (or months) between performances, but I'm never going to stop performing... whether it be in person, online, TV, film, or whatever venues the future might bring.

The difference (or so I thought) with stand-up comedy is that I felt it was okay to make that declaration for a subset of performing, and be done with it.  It wasn't the same as quitting showbiz altogether.  It was just getting rid of one facet of performing.  The one that I felt was best to leave in the rear view mirror.

But why quit stand-up versus all of the others?

Because stand-up is a different beast.

It's the most difficult form of entertainment that I've pursued.

While it does have _amazing_ highs, it also has equally amazing lows.

Not only is it difficult to be good at it for a sustained period of time, it's even harder to be good at it in small doses.  And I'd gotten to the point where I realized that the small highs I might experience now and then doing few-and-far-between gigs weren't worth the (inevitable) lows of a bad set.

And then along come the urges.

Months after "quitting" stand-up, I started getting the urge to do it again.

Why?

I have no idea.

Free will?  Hah!

For a while, I tried stifling those urges.  But then I realized it was a losing battle.  And I also realized that pushing down those urges was unhealthy.  It doesn't matter "why" I feel like doing stand-up again.  The only thing I know is that I feel like it.

So, I'm going with the flow.

That might not always be the wisest choice.  I mean, just because a person has an urge, that doesn't mean it should be carried-out.  Drugs and alcohol come to mind.  Sometimes, it's okay to fight an urge -- and find healthier alternatives for filling time...

And for filling whatever void would otherwise be filled with consuming various substances.

In the case of stand-up, I feel it is a healthy choice.  I'm not going to destroy my liver by going onstage.  In fact, diverting my attention to writing and performing could keep me from drinking.

Emphasis on _could_.

Stand-up could also lead me to drinking... or smoking... or any number of other vices.

But I don't think so.

Not this time around.

Since I'm generally happy these days, I'm not feeling susceptible to the downward spiral that sometimes comes with stand-up.  I'm just looking to satisfy the urges, man.  Really.  That's all this is.

At least, I think that's all this is.

Free will?  Hah!

Even though I haven't hit the stage (yet) since the urges hit, I've been working on material.  And the act of doing that again feels good.

When I'm not physically writing things down, bits are constantly swirling around in my head.  Old feelings of satisfaction have returned.  That satisfied feeling of coming up with material out of thin air.  And it beats having those mental voids filled with political bullshit, or other so-called "important" news items.

I'm filling my head with creative things instead of the externally-generated destructive things.

And it's all new material.

One thing I decided is that if I'm going to do stand-up again, it's not going to be to regurgitate material I've been doing off-and-on for 25+ years.  It's going to be completely new.  And it's going to be different -- somehow -- though I'm not exactly sure how to explain it.

Let's just say that I'm not looking for funny things to say anymore.  I'm just thinking about stuff that's important to me, and waiting for funny stuff to bubble up to the surface.

In the past, when I went looking for funny things to say, it often ended up being "observational humor".

I'm going to do my best to avoid that trap.

You know, stuff like, "Didja ever notice... cats?  What's up with cats?!".

So, why haven't I hit the stage yet?

I'm glad you asked.

The reason I haven't performed (yet) is because my urge is very specific at this point.  I want to perform in the Nerdist Showroom at Meltdown Comics (a.k.a., NerdMelt).  If I wanted to perform just any-old-place, I could have done that by now.  But I'm only interested in doing NerdMelt (at the moment).

So, what am I doing about it?

I'm glad you asked.

Most importantly, I've compiled a tight 3-minute set.

And last Monday, I drove up to Hollywood to sign-up for the NerdMelt open mic, but didn't get a spot.  There's a lottery (which is typical of popular open mics), and my name wasn't drawn from the hat (actually, the bowl).

No biggie.  I've been through this drill before.  I'll just keep going up there until I get a spot...

Or until I don't have the urge to go up there anymore.

And in the meantime, I'll enjoy being in the belly of the beast.  Whenever I go up to Hollywood for stage time or an audition, I get a bit pumped-up... even if I don't get the gig.

It is the entertainment capital of the world, after all.

The stakes (and rewards) are higher in Hollywood...

Even at an open mic.

Which makes it worth spending hours on the road at a chance for a few minutes of stage time.

At least, that's how I'm feeling about it today.

As for tomorrow...

Who knows?

Free will?  Hah!

Here's what's baffling to me about all of this...

I have no idea why I get the urge to drive hundreds of miles for the possibility of 3 minutes on stage... just as I have no idea why I lost the urge to do that a few years ago.

When I've got the urge, it's no big deal to jump in my car and make a round trip to Hollywood.  When I don't have the urge, I think it was crazy that I'd spend all of that time making the round trip(s) to Hollywood.

And we think we have free will?

Now _that_ is funny.

I _Was_ a Stand-Up Comic [No Age Limit in Showbiz (Blessing/Curse)]

I was a stand-up comic for years.

Until very recently -- like, days ago -- I still put it in the present tense. I'd say I _am_ a comedian.  Unable to let go.  Thinking -- knowing -- that one day I'd get the urge to hit the stage as a comic again.

Today, I'm finally doing what Chris Hardwick's dad was wise enough to do years ago.

I'm stopping.

Period.

Billy Hardwick was a professional bowler.  One of the best in the world.  When he retired -- that was it.  He stopped bowling... period.  Not just for money.  He stopped... period.

He didn't want to taint the memory.

I haven't been so wise.

For years, I've had this on-again/off-again relationship with stand-up comedy.

It's time to let that go.

Or is it?

See?

Do you SEE?

The problem with showbiz is that there's no time limit.

That's also a good thing, depending on how you look at it -- what mood you're in -- how old you are, etc.

On the one hand, I'm happy to know that at my ripe old(ish) age of 52, I could still pursue a career in stand-up if I wanted to.

But that's also a curse.

Because, come on.  Is there really a place for a guy my age to re-start climbing the ladder in stand-up comedy?

And even if there were a "place", do I really have the energy it would take to "make it"?

Hell, I didn't have the energy and/or the talent to "make it" when I was in my mid-20's to early-30's.  I quit my day job to pursue it, and eventually hit a dead end...

A dead-end of my own making, by the way.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Hollywood didn't "chew me up and spit me out" (as was often my explanation to people in the years following my return from Hollywood to "real life").  The fact is, I was unable to muster the energy to continue pursuing that proverbial "next level".

So, what makes me think I could do it now?

For one thing, it's not about "thinking".

There's no logic behind dreams.

One day, I might very well wake up with that unexplainable urge to start driving thousands of miles for a few minutes of stagetime here and there and everywhere/anywhere.

But I sure hope not.

It's not that I don't have _some_ urge to do comedy anymore.

It's just that I've come to grips with the fact (belief?) that there's really no reason for me to do _any_ stage time -- because it's not going to lead anywhere.

It's just not worth my time.

I've got other/better things to do.

And if I have an existential moment that says to me, "Who cares if it leads anywhere?  Just do it for fun!"...

I have to slap that existential moment in the face, and remind it that stand-up comedy is very often not very fun -- both in the preparation and the performing.

Sure, there can be a few fun moments here and there.  But those moments are hard to come by when you're only getting up on stage once in a while.

And when you don't care enough to prepare.

In the past couple of years, an old comedian friend of mine (Lamont Ferguson) tossed me a few bones -- and I gladly caught them -- and voraciously nibbled on the sparse pieces of meat (an amusing metaphor to me -- since the gigs where in a BBQ restaurant).

I couldn't wait for another bone to be tossed my way (since I'd already stopped pursuing any bones on my own).

But now I'm hoping that if/when a bone is tossed in my direction...

I'll run like hell in the other direction.

Or, at least, politely decline to catch it.

It's not that I'm not thankful for those bones.  Those gigs had their moments.  That's what kept me going back.

In the words of Lamont...

"I've lost the will to comede".

Actually, those aren't his words.  He hasn't lost the will.  It's just that I heard the words coming out of his mouth when he told me that some of our old comedy buddies have not caught the bones he's tossed.

And now, my name can (finally) be added to that list.

It's not that I'm giving up on the idea of having _any_ career in showbiz.

Thanks to the Internet, I can continue to do my own video projects whenever I feel like it (and sometimes even be watched by an audience into the double-digits!).

And thanks to the never-ending need for actors of all ages in other people's projects, I can continue to occasionally audition for (and occasionally get selected to do) those gigs.

I can also continue to sing and play my guitar.  Somehow, it's not as pathetic to see an old dude jamming an old tune as it is to see an old dude jamming on an old joke.

In fact, old dudes jamming old tunes can be incredible.

I once went to a blues club in Chicago (not the House of Blues, by the way -- an actual, old, sweaty-walled blues club) -- and was blown away by the old guys on stage -- easily in their 80's.  They were amazing.  "Pathetic" is the last word that comes to mind.  As I recall them in this present moment, the first word that comes to mind is "inspirational".

So, it's not totally a bad thing that there's no age limit in showbiz.

You might even say it's a blessing and a curse.

(Did you read the title of this post?)

It's just, well... it's about choice.

What things are okay to pursue in your golden years, and what things are best left in your scrapbook?

Speaking of my scrapbook...

I was once a football player.  It's been a long time since the thought of pursuing football crossed my mind.

The cool thing about football is that it eventually leaves you no choice.

You _must_ stop.

That may seem like a bad thing to lovers of choice -- but sometimes, it nice to have your choices limited.  It can help you focus on other things -- things you're more capable of actually accomplishing (and enjoying).

Things that don't make you look (and feel) pathetic.

It's not that athletes know exactly when to quit.  Many hold on for "too long".  But eventually, time runs out -- and they find something else to do with their lives.

You're not likely to see a 52-year-old playing in the NFL.

But you can still see a 52-year-old getting up on stage to do comedy in a BBQ restaurant now and then.

Hopefully, not _this_ 52-year-old.

Audition: "Russian Type"

I'm not Russian.  And if I were left with nothing but my own opinion, I also would never have considered myself as a "Russian Type".  But thanks to my Facebook friends (who've commented on my look since I've grown a beard)...

I now consider myself to look like a Russian.

Why am I thanking my Facebook friends for that?

Because I recently submitted myself for a role in a commercial where they were looking for a "Russian Type"...

And I got called in for an audition.

It's the first time I've gone up to Hollywood for an audition in a year.  Exactly a year, as a matter of fact.  I just found that out when I checked my calendar today to answer the question, "How long has it been since I went up for an audition in Hollywood".  The answer was one year...

To the day.

That bit of numerical freakiness aside...

Did I mention that I got called in for a role where they were looking for a "Russian Type"?

I've submitted myself to a number of roles in the past year where they were looking for guys in my age range...

And I didn't get called in.

But then I got called in for a "Russian Type"?

The reason I'm making such a big deal out of this is because I think I've done a pretty decent job over the years of knowing my "type" -- based on the results of the stuff I've submitted myself for.  That is, I've submitted myself to a number of roles over the years, and have been called-in for a decent percentage of those submissions.  That would indicate that I've got a handle on my "type", right?

I suppose not knowing that I looked Russian doesn't mean I'm totally clueless about my "type".  It just means...

I wasn't seeing _every_ type.

So, maybe it's a good thing to listen to other people sometimes.  Not all the time, mind you.  That would be enough to drive you crazy.  But there are some good observations coming from outside of your own skull that may lead you places you wouldn't have thought to go on your own.

At this point, you may be thinking...

Looking like a Russian is one thing.  Sounding like one is another thing altogether.

[CROWD: "SOUNDING LIKE ONE IS ANOTHER THING!"]

Point taken.  Just because I now look Russian, that doesn't mean I automatically sound like one.  The beard doesn't come with magical powers.  Not that I'm aware of, anyway.

Which brings me back to your point...

Can I do a Russian accent?

Well, I may not be at the level of Meryl Streep...

Or of an actual Russian...

But I can do something in the vicinity of a Russian accent.

And for commercials, I figure "in the vicinity" is good enough to be in the room.

Speaking of actual Russians...

When I was waiting to audition yesterday, I overheard a few of the other actors talking to each other...

And they were actually from Russia (or some other Eastern European countries).

Either that, or they were method actors not wanting to break character.

At first, that did throw me off a little bit.

Not much... but definitely a bit.

It shouldn't have surprised me -- I just hadn't thought about who else would be waiting in the hallway.  So when I was sitting there, doing my best to relax and wait my turn, it was just a bit off-putting to know that the director would be observing me immediately after a number of actors who weren't "doing" an accent.

Then I reminded myself that there are many times when people are hired to "do" accents.  And in each case, I'm pretty sure there were actors from the actual country with the actual accent that auditioned for the part.

"It's not all about whether or not your accent is real", said the little voice in my head.  "It's about whether or not you're the best one for the role."

Duh.

That's always the case, isn't it?  Unless, of course, your mom's the Producer.

Anyway...

Believe it or not, whether or not I get the job is beside the point.

The main point (see "the thing I enjoyed the most") about yesterday was the risk-taking involved.

I took my not-quite-Meryl-Streep-quality Russian accent into a casting office in Hollywood, and let 'er rip.  Win or lose, I took the risk.  I put myself out there.

And it felt good.

In the end, I think that's mostly what this is all about...

Taking risks.

(And feeling good doesn't hurt, either.)

Smoothest Audition Ever

This morning, I had an audition.  That's news in itself.  I don't get out much.  That's partly because of the nature of the biz, and partly because I've been a lot more selective in the past couple of years.

But the rarity of having an audition is not the main reason I'm writing.

I'm writing because this morning was the smoothest audition ever.

It should always be this easy.

This is not a humble brag.

No, seriously.

It isn't.

The main ingredients for this morning's "smoothest audition ever" had nothing to do with me.

The number one ingredient that pushed this one over the top was the fact that I was the only actor there.  I'm talking about nobody in the parking lot, hallways, or waiting room.

Nobody.

Tumbleweed City.

It's normal to be the only one in the audition room.  But it's also normal to have actors stacked-up waiting to go into the room.

This morning, it was just me and the friendly man running the auditions.

And that's the second ingredient to making this the smoothest audition ever.

The friendly man.

It's not that I've never dealt with a friendly person running an audition.  There have been plenty of "warm rooms" in the past several years.  But I don't take it for granted.

Thanks, Royce!

(That's the name of the friendly man, in case you hadn't guessed.)

The final ingredient is the fact that I've become more relaxed over the years.  Not 100% limp & lifeless, mind you.  Just... in a healthy state of relaxation -- with a slight edge (for good measure).

So, there you have it.  The list of ingredients for the smoothest audition ever.

With any luck, it won't take another six or seven years to repeat this experience.

To Pursue, or Not To Pursue?

I don't tend to pursue any extracurricular activities on a daily basis. Not for long, anyway.

Is that wrong?

Rather than labeling it right or wrong, I'm just going to say that it is what it is.

It is who I am.

I do things in spurts. To deny this is to deny myself.

I'm not going to force myself to put forth daily effort on anything.

That's not to say I've never forced myself. I have. And the way I see it now, that was a mistake.

When I've forced myself, it hasn't made me happy.

Forcing myself to do things is... well... a chore. That's pretty much the definition of a chore. It's something you don't want to do. You're forced to do it. It doesn't matter if you're being forced by someone else, or by yourself. If you're doing what you don't want to do, it's a chore.

And who in their right mind would pursue a chore?

Isn't happiness the whole point of pursuing things? And if it isn't the point, then I don't see the point.

We pursue things because we're not satisfied. We want more. More stuff. More experiences. More... fill-in-the-blank.

We want more.

If we didn't want more fill-in-the-blank, we wouldn't be pursuing more fill-in-the-blank. We'd be content with the fill-in-the-blank that we have.

One of my problems, and likely the problem of many others, is that I do want more fill-in-the-blank, but I'm not compelled to take action. At least, not on a regular basis.

In itself, that's not a problem. I mean, not being compelled. So what if I'm not compelled?

The problem comes when I'm not compelled to do something, and I hear this little voice in my head telling me that I need to be working harder.

Who said that?

Who is that little voice?

Joe [shaking fist at sky]: Curse you, little voice!!

I have my moments. There are times when I'm compelled to take action every day. And guess what? During those times, I take action every day. And it feels great. It's not a chore.

But most of the time...

Spurts.

Which brings me back to my first point...

That's who I am.

I have to be happy with whatever my spurty action gets me. Well, I don't "have to" be. But I should be. Otherwise, it's a losing battle. If I'm not happy with the results of my spurty pursuits, then I'll never be happy.

How's that?

Let me explain.

Oh, please... let me explain!

I see two choices...

1. Force myself to work my ass off on a daily basis, whether I'm compelled or not.

2. Take action when I feel like taking action (see "Spurts").

Choice #1 is a chore. It's not who I am. It may give me better odds of getting to the mountaintop, but at what cost? And so what if I get to the mountaintop? What makes me think I'll be happy "up there" when the climb has been such a chore? And during the climb, I'm miserable because I've basically taken on another day job. I'm doing the current day job that I'd rather not be doing, and another day job that I'd rather not be doing in my "spare time" (which is no longer spare time).

Choice #2 is who I am. It may not get me to the mountaintop, but it will continue to get me a few things here and there. And along the way, I'm being myself. I have one day job, and the extra thing(s) that I'm compelled to do. And when I'm not compelled, I do nothing... except kick back and enjoy where I am... here and now. And if lightning strikes, and I do happen to wander my way up to the mountaintop, I'll arrive in a happy frame of mind, ready to enjoy the next climb. Or stop climbing. Whatever I'm compelled to do.

This isn't an exercise in figuring out what I want to do. It's an exercise in doing what I'm compelled to do... since I was compelled to write this morning.

It's also an exercise in communicating my choice... which is why I'm blogging instead of writing in my personal Journal.

This is not an exercise in telling you what to do. Your choice is up to you (see "duh").

My choice has already been made. I've made the mistake of choosing #1 at various points throughout my life. Now I chose #2.

Hopefully, I'll be wise enough to remember my choice, and not drift back into the trap of #1.

NO MORE OPEN CALLS – NO, REALLY – I MEAN IT THIS TIME

I should have stuck with my "NO OPEN CALL" rule.

Why did I decide to break my own rule? Because it was my agent that told me about it. Even though it was an open call, people were being told about it by their agents, so I figured it would be different from the normal open call.

It wasn't.

At today's audition, it took over 2 hours to be seen (actually, that's short by open call standards)... and when I was seen, they didn't want to see me for the role I'd prepared for. That's part of the biz, right? But I think it's mainly part of the biz when you go to open calls.

It may sometimes be part of the biz when you're called in based on your headshot -- but not as often. Not if you look like your headshot -- which I do. If they've seen your headshot, glanced at your resume, and decide to call you in for an audition -- chances are, they'll read you for the part you've prepared for. When you're called in for an audition, somebody has picked you from the bunch based on your look. You've at least jumped one hurdle to get into the room.

They want you -- specifically you -- to be there, for a reason.

But for this audition, even though my agent told me about it, the folks making the film didn't see my headshot ahead of time. Had they seen it, they probably would not have called me in. At least, not for the role I spent all that time preparing for.

It's not just a "me" thing. They didn't see any of our headshots ahead of time. So many (maybe most?) of us would not have been called in for auditions had the production company filtered through our headshots ahead of time -- or had our agents only been asked to send a small sampling of actors specifically selected for the various roles.

Don't get me wrong. For some people, open calls are fine. And there was a time when I had no problem with them, either. They're part of paying your dues.

So, I'm not making a judgement call on open calls in general.

This is a personal choice arrived at after years of paying my dues.. and re-paying them... in various areas of the entertainment industry. My last straw (or should I say, second to last straw?) was when I auditioned for "Last Comic Standing" (2006). While I don't regret doing it, I swore that was my last open call. And it was...

Until today.

So, today I'm reiterating my rule.

I spent time preparing for a role that they didn't see me for, and the role they did have me read for is a role that I wasn't interested in reading for when I checked the list of roles for my type. When I was deciding whether or not to go to today's open call, I specifically decided to read for one of the roles that was more interesting -- and would be worth my time. We're talking about an Ultra Low Budget project, so for me, it has to be a role of a certain size and/or interest to even think about getting involved.

Look -- I know I'm not in the big leagues. So, I'm not saying I'm above certain kinds of work. Oh, wait. Yes I am. I don't work for sandwiches... anymore. I don't work for free... anymore. And I'm not interested in working as an extra, or having one or two lines, on an Ultra Low Budget project.

What's the point of that?

To get experience?

Just to work?

I've worked in the entertainment industry for years in one capacity or another. I've got experience. I know how to work. And I'm a lot more selective about what I'm willing to leave the house to work on these days.

For one thing, I don't even need to leave the house to work these days.

Without leaving my apartment, I'm working 5 days a week a week making YouTube videos... all on my own... with maybe as much chance of getting seen as a minor role in a ULB film. And even if what I'm doing on my own doesn't amount to something, at least it's mine -- and I don't have to audition for it.

What really left the bad taste in my mouth after the whole process was complete is that they didn't even bother to put me on tape. The reason I know some people were getting put on tape is because we could hear them auditioning as we were waiting in line. They'd rehearse, then they'd get put on tape.

Now, I know that it may just have been that they were only putting certain roles on tape. I'm not "supposed to" second guess what they're doing. They might very well just be making notes for the tiny roles, and not putting them on tape, even when they like the actor.

But... well... the bottom line to all of this is that I'm going back to the personal rule I'd set for myself after auditioning for Last Comic Standing. No open calls. Period.

Even if my agent tells me about it. An open call is still an open call.

Getting cast on a project is hard enough, even when the Director/CastingDirector/Producer call you in because your headshot matches a look they're going for.

Walking in cold... sucks.

Plain and simple.

It reminded me of those comedy gigs where the audience doesn't know there's going to be a comedy show. Performing is hard enough when people want you to be there. It's miserable when they don't.

And I didn't exactly feel like I was wanted there today. I had the feeling that the small part they had me read for was simply going through the motions. I could be wrong, but that's how it felt.

In any event, whether I'm right or wrong about how they felt, I know how I feel... and it ain't good. Not heartbroken or anything. But seriously... it took almost 4 hours of my day for a local San Diego audition (counting getting dressed and drive time) -- and that's not counting the hours of preparation time over the past couple of days.

And it turned out to be for a role I'm not right for -- that I didn't even get to read for.

It feels like I just went to LA... for one of those freakin' comedy hell gigs at a sports bar -- which, coincidentally, is where the audition was held. In a sports bar.

Ah, the ironies of life.

I don't go out of my way anymore to do sports bar comedy gigs in LA or Orange County in front of people who are playing pool and/or watching one of the 37 flatscreen TV's -- but I end up back in a sports bar in San Diego auditioning for somebody who might as well have been playing pool or watching one of the flatscreens.

Will I ever learn?

Probably not.

I'll wait a while and forget how much this sucked.

WAIT... BZZZT! Timeout!!

That's setting myself up for defeat. I call a personal foul on myself!

Replay...

I am NOT going to do ANY more OPEN CALLS. PERIOD.

Fates Worse Than Obscurity: Rebecca Black

I may get banned from Hollywood for saying this, but here goes...

There are fates worse than obscurity.

Case in point: Rebecca Black.

If you don't know who or what I'm talking about... Google it.

In a nutshell, she's in a music video that's gone viral.

Actually, "viral" is an understatement. It's garnered so much attention on the Internet this past week that it's now also being covered by the mainstream media. We're not talking run-of-the-mill viral here. We're talking mega-viral. Every aspiring entertainer's dream, right?

Wrong.

Not for this aspiring entertainer, anyway.

Why am I not envious of Rebecca Black?

Much of the attention she's getting isn't good. Some are saying she's done the worst song/video ever. Rolling Stone called it an "unintentional parody of modern pop".

And it gets worse from there.

Numerous comments on YouTube and Twitter have gone way too far, saying things like "cut yourself" and "go die".

Obviously much more than she (and her mom) bargained for.

It reminds me of an old joke about wanting something "in the worst way", and then getting that thing...

In the worst way.

Of course, this is nothing new. A lot of people have achieved fame "in the worst way".

"Jersey Shore" anyone?

I'll refrain from making an exhaustive list. There's not enough time in the day for that.

Rebecca is just the latest in a long line of people who've achieved fame for something other than their talent. The sad thing is, Rebecca actually does appear to have some talent. I just heard her sing (without Auto-Tune) on "Good Morning America", and I think she has a decent voice. At the very least, her normal voice is a lot more pleasing than the Auto-Tuned version from the video.

But the sad truth is, her talent would never have ever gotten her the huge amount of attention she's getting from the silly song/video that's swept the Internet.

So, what happens now?

There's no way of knowing how all of this will pan out for her. She may actually go on to have a "normal" career in the entertainment industry (as if anything about showbiz can be deemed "normal"?). But for now, this week's latest example of "instant fame" is going into my files under the heading...

"Fates worse than obscurity."

Technology, Showbiz, and The American Dream

Back in 1989, I quit my day job to focus on pursuing a career as a stand-up comedian. I'd been doing comedy for a few years, and had become obsessed. I figured the only way to really give it a shot was to quit my day job. And it was a good job, too. A technology-based job. The kind of job where you need an education and a resume and...

The ability to sit in a cubicle for 8 hours a day.

While I did possess that ability, it wasn’t satisfying me. In fact, it was sucking the life out of me.

So I ventured out of my cubicle, and into the Bohemian lifestyle of stand-up comedy.

It was a risk, but it was something I had to do. I was 29 years old, and not getting any younger.

I really enjoy live performances. There's nothing like the immediacy of a live show. And I'd gotten to the point where I was able to hold the attention of an audience for 30 minutes, which led to my first full-fledged comedy booking for an entire week at a club in Phoenix.

They flew me out, put me up in a hotel room near the club... and gave me by biggest paycheck to date. I got to do 30 minutes in the middle of each show... a sweet spot. You don’t have to warm up the crowd, and don’t have the pressure of closing the show. I did six shows that week... three hours of stage time... in 4 days. People even asked for my autograph at the end of the night. It was awesome... except for one thing...

I don't like to travel.

Now, I don't mind it now and then, but it's not something I want to do all that often. Not only is there the inconvenience of airports, taxis, packing, unpacking, never sleeping in your own bed... but when you're doing stand-up, most of the day is free time. Don’t get me wrong. I like free time. But it drove me crazy being away from home with nothing to do. I suppose I could have played tourist, but I wasn’t exactly rolling in dough. The money I made on the road was going to come in real handy paying rent and bills. I supposed if I'd been more disciplined, I could have been writing all day... but that's not the way I liked spending my day. Comedy ideas have always been things that hit me while I'm living my life. Funny stuff happens, I jot down a note, and expand on it later. I can't just sit down 8 hours a day and write jokes. And being totally immersed in the airport, hotel, and comedy club, I began to see why so many comedians had so many jokes about those things. They had no other life to draw from.

I’d finally achieved one of my goals as a comic, and I didn’t like it. The stage time was awesome, but I wasn't in the mood to be away from home 42 weeks a year.

Unfortunately, that's the only way to make money as a comedian. You can get stage time in Hollywood, but you aren't going to make any money there. A free drink or a sandwich... maybe. A few bucks here and there... if you're really lucky. But to make a living as a comic, you have to hit the road.

So, after about 3 years of focusing on comedy, I was ready to go back to the land of the cubicle. More importantly... the land of the steady paycheck. It may have been a mind-numbing experience at times, but it was a hell of a lot easier to eat and pay the rent doing my technology-based job from the comfy confines of a cubicle. And when I wasn't in my cubicle, I could spend the rest of my time on my couch. Cubicle... couch... cubicle... couch...

I was back to living the American Dream...

Kind of.

Problem was, I kept feeling like something was missing.

In the 20 years since I quit the 100% Bohemian lifestyle of stand-up comedy, I've hit the stage a few times here and there. I get the urge, hit the stage, get it out of my system, and go back to my couch. I even started "pursuing" it again several years ago -- hitting stages in Hollywood and Orange County every week -- until it occurred to me that reality hadn't changed.

You can't make a living as a stand-up comic without going on the road.

Then there was a stretch of time in the late 1990's to early 2000's where I added some more mileage to my car doing the singer-songwriter thing at coffeehouses, and hauling DJ equipment around for some parties and festivals. Again, I liked the live performances, but got tired of getting up off my butt a couple times a week to drive around town for a little bit of stage time.

For the past 5 years, I've been pursuing a career as an actor. There were times in that first year of auditioning that I was going up to LA once or twice a week. Living in San Diego, working a day job, driving the kids to and from school, and going to LA once or twice a week, well... I’d count that as “paying my dues”... again.

I don’t drive to LA nearly as much as I did that first year.

The first year I was auditioning in LA, I drove up there for the chance of getting a role in something that would pay a hundred bucks. I even submitted myself for roles that would only "pay" you in food... plus the promise of "credit" and "copy".

Those last two are hilarious. You invest several hours of your time driving to and from an audition -- sometimes, if you're lucky, you get a "call-back"... meaning that you get to drive several more hours for another audition... for the same role -- and your "pay" on the back-end is "credit" and "copy"!

In case you don't know... "credit" means they'll put your name in the on-screen credits of the film/show, and "copy" means they'll give you a copy of the film/show... so you can add it to your "reel" (the equivalent of a video resume).

Once I added up all of the hours and gas money and vehicle wear-and-tear... I realized that even if I were lucky enough to be cast in a role (which, by the way, would mean more time invested, and more gas money, and more vehicle wear-and-tear), I would be losing time and money indefinitely... all with the promise of a carrot-dangling prize of someday making a lot more money than any human deserves to make.

But I digress... or do I? Isn't this the point? What is the point?

The point is, while I love performing, I've gotten tired of spending hundreds of hours, driving thousands of miles, and spending thousands of dollars... at the off chance that I might get to say 2 lines in a film or TV project. And on the _really_ off chance that I’ll be making obscene amounts of money someday.

I haven't totally given up on that, mind you. But I'm much more selective now. I'll only submit myself to stuff that's either very visible, or that's going to pay a decent amount of money if I get it. And in the years since I quit my day job in 1989, I've found a balance between my techie day job and my desire to do something on-the-side.

Mainly, I’m getting my performing fix on my own terms -- and feeling much better about myself in the process -- by doing daily YouTube videos. I'm personally rewarded by creating a new project every day. Technology is finally allowing me to get rewards greater than the level of energy I’m exerting.

It may not be paying me anything (yet), but it's also not putting any miles on my car. And since I'm not investing all of that extra time and money, it's kind of like making money... but not spending it.

Most importantly, I don't need anybody's permission to do it. I'm getting cast in every role I'm up for... every day. I'm "putting myself out there" more than I ever did by driving all around Southern California performing for a handful of people here and there over the past 20 years.

Thanks to technology, I've found my own place in the entertainment industry... without ever leaving my apartment.

Now _that_ is my idea of "The American Dream".

Justifying and Rationalizing

Why do we spend so much time justifying and rationalizing?

We can justify any decision we make. We can find other people who agree with our decision. We can find famous quotes to support our decision, no matter what we choose to do...

"Turn the other cheek!"

"An eye for an eye!"

For every adage, there's an equal and opposite adage.

Then why do we spend so much time justifying and rationalizing?

It seems like a huge waste of time, given the fact that most things we do are not "right" or "wrong". They just _are_.

Note that I said "most" things. There are exceptions, of course. Most people would agree that it's wrong to kill, or to steal. I'm not talking about those kinds of things.

I'm talking about questions like, "Should I be an engineer?” Yes? No? There's no morally right or wrong answer... unless you're morally opposed to engineering. And you can find people to give you advice and support for both the "yes" and "no" decision.

SO...

Why do we spend so much time justifying and rationalizing?

Excuse me while I go endlessly ponder the answer(s).

USC vs. UCLA -- A Bedtime Story

Last night was the USC vs. UCLA football game.

The 80th meeting in one of the most storied rivalries in college football.

And I fell asleep.

I went to USC.

I played at USC.

Well, I sat on the bench at USC.

The point is, USC football is one of the few things I get passionate about.

And I fell asleep.

It’s not that I don’t care anymore.

Or that I don’t care because we’re on probation this year.

And yes... I said “we”.

It may be 30 years since I wore the uniform, but I still say “we”.

So, yes... I still care.

I care enough to say “we”.

And I care enough to have watched every game this year.

And last week, during the game against Notre Dame, our other big rival...

I did _not_ fall asleep.

I stayed awake during every heart-pounding, frustrating moment.

At one point, I even screamed at the top of my lungs...

Scaring the crap out of my daughters...

And probably any neighbors not tuned into the game...

Which was likely most of them...

Since USC and Notre Dame were not exactly “in the hunt” this year.

In some years, everybody who cares about football knows when USC and Notre Dame are playing.

This year, not so much.

But that game still got my blood pumping.

And my daughters running for cover.

And the neighbors dialing 911.

After we lost to Notre Dame, I was numb.

I was depressed.

Maybe not clinically depressed...

Which would have been an improvement, actually...

Because then I would have had some medication at my disposal.

Instead, I had to resort to philosophy.

I tried telling myself “it’s only game”.

Key word... “tried”.

Problem is, I don’t believe that.

It goes much deeper than that.

It’s something...

Hard to describe.

When you care so much about something, it defies description.

My ex-wife used to ask, “Why do you love me?”.

Why?

Who can answer that question?

I love you because... I love you.

You might even come up with a list of things you like about the person you love, but how can you say “why” you love them?

Or why you stop loving them?

When my wife decided to end our marriage, I asked her, “Why do you want to get divorced?”.

Her reply...

“I’m as surprised as you.”

Not only is that a unique answer for ending a relationship...

It pretty much sums up what I’ve been saying.

We don’t know why we love somebody... or stop loving somebody.

It’s the same with sports.

Or anything else you’re passionate about.

Why do you love to...

fill-in-the-blank?

You just do.

It’s the way it is.

It’s part of who you are.

For you, it’s part of the meaning of life.

Maybe you couldn’t care less about sports...

And by the way, did you notice I said “_couldn’t_ care less”?

Could _not_ care less.

When you don’t care about something, you could _not_ care less, right?

But a lot of people say... “I could care less”.

I _could_ care less.

When they really mean, I could _not_ care less.

And whenever I hear somebody say “I could care less”...

It bugs the crap out of me.

Why?

I don’t know.

It just does.

It’s just like anything else that I do or don’t care about.

Ask me why...

I don’t know.

All I do know is that when I’m emotionally involved in a game, and somebody says... “it’s just a game”...

It’s insulting.

Even if you couldn’t care less about sports, surely there’s something you’re passionate about...

(And stop calling me Shirley.)

Think of how you would feel if somebody told you that one of the most important things in your life wasn’t all that important...

“It’s just your kids.”

How would that make you feel?

It doesn’t matter if it’s sports, or whatever it is...

If it’s important to you... it’s important.

Period.

End of story.

So, last night, during the 80th meeting in one of the most storied rivalries in college football... even though it meant “nothing” as far as bowl games and national championships and any other measure of a season’s success... it meant something to me... and to the players and coaches... and to the people at the game... and the fans watching the game on TV... it still meant something... it wasn’t “just a game”.

So, then... why did I fall asleep?

I have no idea.