Pandemic Worry and btw I am Moving

This pandemic is starting to mess with my head down brand of optimism. I pursued stand up as a career and people would immediately think I was crazy, stupid, or both those and much more. I was the first to move to NYC from the Atlanta scene and people half expected me to move back after making no headway. Well, it’s been 13 years doing comedy and 9 years living in NYC and now everyone is like “your industry is doomed. What are you gonna do now?” Well, I’m gonna do what I’ve always done: Plan A. And if that doesn’t work out, I dunno…crime(again)? I make Plan A work cuz there’s never been a plan B, ya dicks. I’m not brave, I’m single-minded and hate doing shit I don’t wanna do. I dunno what comedy will look like after all this, but I’ll be doing comedy, even if it means a financial hit like I never imagined and have to live off even less-livable income. I’m 37 and have honed  very few employable skills. The one I got good at is the least respected art form after poetry that rhymes. If stand up comedian is no longer a job title (something dating apps and Tax forms have already decided), then I will trade sexual favs for money and get on whatever stage will let me, or perhaps when no one’s paying attention I can sneak up there for a few jokes. 

I dunno, I really don’t like when people are doubtful out loud about what I’m gonna do. You life-preparing nerds don’t realize that me and most of my friends thought we would be dead by now. I’ve been wingin it this whole time. I can adapt to a lot. I’d worry about the hellscape of *your* careers post-Covid. They’re tryin to wipe student debt because they know it was a huge waste of money to begin with (except for the friends you made along the way). I could land some random zoom corporate gig and be up huge, while salary workers get all their time squeezed from them and could be let go for no reason. Whatever state comedy is in, it will always be hard and only so many people will be really good at it. I’ve gotten enough crowds to laugh at me on purpose for enough years to believe I know what I am doing. I admit to not knowing most things, but when it comes to the thing I DO know about, I’m more than all in. You would have to be high off your ass to know me at all and not know that I am way too stubborn fail at something I actually took the time to learn. Honestly, I don’t play chess because I got good enough at chess to beat morons and people who have forgotten the game mostly, but be beaten by really good players who take the time to study and stay sharp. What a nightmare it is to be decent enough at something. There are a ton of decent enough comedians and I dunno what drives them. Comedy is a very humbling experience that never stops humbling you. It’s brutal, really. It’s almost like it can’t let you think you’ve figured it out. Other interests aren’t like that. people don’t get into crosshatching to find out that you didn’t know a damn thing about crosshatching for like 5 years, and then crosshatching in NY or LA is like starting over almost. The very fact that I have proposed this ridiculous analogy is a product of comedian brain logic: to crystalize a premise and get it across by simplifying it for people. Some comics are all analogies. Can you imagine your coworker having to explain how one thing is kinda like another thing if ya think about it? Like all the time?

No, you don’t know my coworkers, and you couldn’t handle them either. You don’t know club bookers, producers and the like that I have had to deal with. No one likes a snake in the grass, so imagine the snake that has to scam from comedians who fight to be paid pretty much always less than we are worth. I’ve been told, “yeah but you aren’t Steve-O” and then had to have a whole conversation about what sub-Steve-O money I’d be getting. I am proudly NOT Steve-O. I get the point is that Steve-o will sell out a weekend whilst I will have numbers reflecting time of year/weather/the circus being in town…in other words, I won’t be a huge draw to non-comedy nerds, but I will do a much better job than Steve-O or the like for the people that come out.  I’ve had to babysit drunks, stop fights, start fights, threaten, charm, and appease some idiot heckler that he wasn’t an idiot for heckling me, if that’s what gets the show moving. I’ve given up relationships for comedy and taken on burdening relationships for it. It’s been my whole life, or what of it is worth a shit.

People gathering in crowds in low ceiling rooms and laughing a bunch is a scary thought for most right now. I dunno if we’ll ever be as gross as we were before all this, but I do cornily believe that comedy is necessary for people, at the very least to convince them they would probably be good at it. Whatever the landscape of comedy is, I will be up in there somewhere and will be a big enough asshole about it to take pride in what I’m doing. So if stand up turns into instagram story hot takes, then I’ll do my version of that, and it will have to be good or I’ll stop. 

People get annoyed that unfunny comedians find success, and I dunno how to explain to comedians that they are not actually jealous of the comic who they think sucks because of the success one might presume they have. Imagine being so entrenched in comedy that you don’t even know regular people don’t follow it. If fame and fortune are your comedy goals, you are a goddam idiot. It is a conman’s job. I trick people all the time and lie to them just to make them laugh at my jokes. I have entertained a crowd of strangers I did not like for hours at a time, countless times. And as fucked up as it is, not tricking people etc. for such a long stretch has fucked with me mentally. Considering making broad announcements in public just to herd a crowd.

Comedy is not my therapy. If I could go to and stick with therapy, I probably would’ve never tried stand up. I don’t need this to fulfill my creativity and create joy yada yada. I need this so I don’t end up running an illegal card game again, or try to be the best at doing drugs again. It sounds silly to say comedy saved my life, but it shifted everything at a crucial time for me and gave me something to dump all my energy into. So I guess I do often refuse to give into comedy pessimism, even when it’s the fun kind. I don’t pretend to be embarrassed of what I do, or play it off as “some dirtbag mumbling out ma dick jokes.” If I am never too cool for this shit, you are definitely not too cool to care about it. I may even be a dirtbag with dick jokes, but I know what all goes into jokes too well to shit on what I’m doin. Even if you are a comedian I don’t much care for (rare, really) I don’t want to hear you badmouth stand up in general. If you are doing it well, you won’t feel embarrassed at all. PSA comedians: if we get comedy back, please don’t pretend to be ashamed to promote yourself either. Who gives a shit? Like it is dumber than any other status er tweet. Let’s just all agree to not do things that annoy me. 

I don’t think I mentioned this, but my lease in NY ends March 1st and I am not renewing. I am gonna live in Atlanta for a little bit to have a better/more likely place to work out and record the album I was getting together this time last year. NY is still my home, but I feel it’s gonna be the very last place to have live comedy anywhere near full capacity. At least down south, outdoor shows will be doable by March. I am not against indoor shows, but have to be pretty certain they are actually distanced. I’m hoping not to have to make that call where I decide if it’s worth risking disease to have 1 too many people laugh at my funny make em ups. I hope I am wrong and I end up moving back to BK earlier than I thought, but I don’t see that happening.

What I do see happening (that could be good) is: shit like this thins out the herd. That goes for comedians and comedy business ventures/sketchy bookers/clubs/vultures etc. Anybody fuckin with comedy 100% after all this is definitely in it cuz they love it (too much probly). Gatekeepers will change, gates themselves will change. I wouldn’t worry too much about the shifting sands. They’ve always been shifting. I’m not some fat old chickenhawk telling the young ones “don’t worry, it’ll all work out.” It doesn’t for most. That’s just the nature of the game. I have forgotten more mediocre comedians than most will ever meet. I’m just sayin the rules don’t change as far as funny is funny. You can’t fake it. You have to actually get good, and then get way better than that to make an impression like you are different somehow. I’m lookin forward to a different environment to sharpen myself back to top shape, and then exceed that to get into recording mode. And I am not a fucking dork that thinks Star Wars is our Odyssey BUT I do feel like a Jedi that has been chilling for too long. I have only as much rust as is unavoidable with not doing comedy for months. but that rust will get shaken off soon and I’ll get sharp enough again to not have to think about what I’m doing because it’s just what I do. I miss that.

I almost forgot what it’s like to just hear jokes and not instantly pick apart everything about them. Almost. I actually never build up too much rust because you can’t get my brain to not dedicate a lobe er two to jokes at all times. If any comedians are looking to me for some words of wisdom, first of all, I’m sorry you’ve landed here. Secondly: you don’t have to do a million things, just whatever you do, do it better than anyone would expect. I’m a terrible multi-tasker juggler person. I am terrible at writing packets and auditioning for shit that doesn’t seem like me. I have never had a meeting with industry and not dashed their hopes halfway through by revealing my true self. I have learned to focus on one thing, obsessively, until it is done and better than I hoped or others expected (hatin ass others). I wouldn’t recommend that for everyone, but I found a process in that. You may be more of a sane, reasonable non-obsessive person that can handle 3 things on their plate. I have found I can’t trust myself with a plate.

I don’t claim to have some tried and true process. No one does. If they did, they’d be exactly where they want to be and would have nailed everything on the way. If that’s you, well fuck you anyway. The only things I know work for sure are: Being funny. Sounds stupid and maybe it is, but you gotta be funny and know that you are and how. The other certainty is you have to write. Like literally, you have to have a time where you sit and write, or in my case pace and talk to myself, or maybe you journal every day. Whatever you do, you have to do it. You want fall into brilliance on accident. If you do, that means there was a lot more had you done a little digging. No one likes to hear this at all, so you know it’s probably true. You aren’t gonna be a great comedian on accident. Last certainty I will blab about: set a higher standard. Higher than what? I dunno, whatever standard there is around. My favorite feeling after a pretty much perfect set is just relief. Thank gawd I didn’t fuck up anything bad and they laughed hard at everything. That’s what is supposed to happen. I can’t help it now, but after a great set I am more numb than anything for a while. Hours after even an incredible show, I’m pretty even keal. Then later that night I process everything and can’t sleep worth a shit because I am too geeked. Comedy still does that to me. Now more than ever really. The first thing I do after a set is smoke a cigarette (sorry mom) and go over everything I just did and if no big mistakes jump out (and boy do they jump out) then I think about ways I missed out on something by making little mistakes people other than me wouldn’t notice. Then I’ll think about if the order I chose works best or worked enough. Tons of things to think about before considering the laughs you got on the things that should be bulletproof. That’s just jerking off, which is for later on when you are alone or at least no one can see you. 

Maybe I am just spinning myself into a rosy outlook, but I am looking forward to being in Atlanta a bit and annoying all the comics here with my uncontrollable comedy habits. I came up in Atlanta in a scene that, looking back, was an insane class to “graduate” from…Clayton English, Dave Stone, Shalewa Sharp, Noah Gardenswartz, Rob Haze, Caleb Synan, Mia Jackson…just to name a few off top. There are also monsters from my time that have moved away and back… All of us way back comics pushed each other and were honest af with each other. Never bitch about when you’re going up or who you’re following. Never too cool for school.  You just felt like an idiot doing Star Bar on Monday and having to follow Clayton English doin some shit you don’t even care about. Now there are hella TV credits among all those names, but honestly when we got to know each other, no one had done shit. There was just clout that came with being really funny. I feel like that’s the best way for a scene to be. Everyone can be super nice to everyone at their job or some shit. Comedy and your comedy peers should mean more than that. I’m not confrontational at all really, but if someone I know and like doesn’t notice they are on some bullshit, or why something didn’t go how they thought, I’m gonna tell them. If I don’t know you or like you that much, I will already not care about or understand what yer doin anyway. It sounds lame and it probably is, but being in NYC for 9 years and swimming with monsters every night changes your standards and how you go about things. It’s not like a NYC is the best thing, it’s just it’s the biggest scene in the world and most of the best stand up comics in the world live and work there. There’s the most of everything from great to shitty. It’s like grad school for stand up, not that I know about grad school really. But I am 70-80 years older than most of the young comics in Atlanta, and I really don’t mind being the old man in the greenroom. The comics I’ve gotten to know and like a lot in the scene here really have no idea how annoying I can be. Forcing friends to play Joke Machine all the time. Asking why you do this or that in your set. Touching friends inappropriately while they sleep. My friends in NYC are used to it. Almost everyone doing comedy in Atlanta has started after I moved in 2011. It’s now 10 years later, and while I actually look much better, it feels like when I lived here before and was obsessed with being better each set. 

I feel I have sufficiently talked myself into my plans. I’m gonna miss everyone in NYC but I have been missing y’all for a year already. Also, I will be back of course. If you are a comedian reading this, first off, why aren’t you GRINDING rn? Jk, but seriously I hope maybe you feel better about this shit or have developed your own pandemmy plan. I think I gotta put myself in a position to be happy somehow, and I hate my fuckin apartment and it’s gonna be winter until May in NYC like always and I will lose my fuckin mind trying to live there while my reason for living there is nul. Also, I need to do what I can to shorten the timeline of new album tracks getting into rotation cuz ya boi’s residuals need beefin up. I’ll write about how satellite radio is the only real money in stand up at another time.