Webster’s Is Required Bedtime Reading

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I had an old high school friend send me a thoughtful message on Facebook after our high school reunion. She mentioned something that made me think. She said it’s great to see that I was following my dream to do comedy. Then I started thinking about it. Comedy isn’t my dream, is it?  Is it a goal?  Just what the hell have I been doing these last five years?
 
I had to start by first reading the definitions of a goal and that of a dream, then find the difference between them.  To sum it up, dreams are about the destination, not the journey. Goals are about the destination as well, but they are much more about the journey instead.
 
It’s bad to say, but at 43 years old I think the days of any dreams I have are well behind me. My only dream really was to get into radio out of high school. I did that and interned for a couple of years at SUN 102FM in Saskatoon. When that ran its course, my dream died. That’s really the only dream I’ve had that I can remember. Once that dream got crushed I never had a dream to replace it with.
For years now I’ve been all about the goals.  Yes, I’m a chaser.  For years I’ve chased success, or at least the idea of it.  All I have ever wanted was to be an equal to the people I look up to, having a stable career that pays decently, a solid relationship and the ability to create those special moments in life with someone who you cherish.
For years and years now it seems like I have been chasing my tail at times.  The journey I take is the story about the destination.  Now, I suppose that at one time I had another dream like most guys; the dream to have a wife and a family.  But after being beaten down and dragged through the mud on a consistent basis, that dream beats you down as if you have no right to even think such crazy thoughts.
All I have ever wanted was to be like everybody else with the successful career and stuff, but in my defined terms that best suited me.  It’s never happened.  Ever.  Some days I doubt that it ever will, unless I was able to surround myself with the right people.  They may seem like the right people at the time, but it usually doesn’t last and just leaves me with lessons learned.
This brings me to the apology.  Those of you who know me well, you know that I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve.  I’ve never been one of those people who can “fake it” and put on a false front.  That just isn’t the way I am wired.  So when I tend to go after a goal I tend to become emotionally invested in it, as one should.  This means when rough seas come a calling, I will react with my heart and not with my head.  It happens to the best of us.
Though in my case I seem to react with my heart a lot, given the fact that I always seem to fail or struggle.  Sometimes I can react with either my heart or my head and be able to churn out an eloquent perspective on the situation.  Other times though the complete opposite happens and through my actions, words, or a combination of both they end up making relationships with others challenging at best.  So, for the unkind words on Twitter (which have since been deleted), for the poorly worded replies on your Facebook posts and for deleting, blocking, then unblocking most of you as Facebook friends, I apologize (if you want me as a Facebook friend I will probably only have around 50 this time….I’m already up to 20, so if you want me back just send me a request).
I try so hard to succeed in comedy because for starters, it’s been almost five years that I’ve done this.  That is longer than any job I have held.  Also, it’s the only thing I’ve been told that I have the potential to be good at, so when I fail, stumble, get haters or have roadblocks put in my way, that gets me more frustrated and angry than leaving the house with a bad hairdo.
If you think about it, for comedy to be a goal instead of a dream makes perfect sense, because is has all the markings of my story.  First, it stars me.  Then, there are an eclectic cast of characters with the heroine, the villain, the bully, family and friends.  That right there makes the journey a hell of a lot more interesting than any destination ever could be, sprinkled in with moments of small victories that are enough to keep my critics at bay, for a moment anyway.
Even though you may not necessarily see the results of my stand-up yet, please know that I have worked harder than most other comics while certainly writing a hell of a lot more.  I’m doing everything I can to get there, and because it’s stand up comedy I am trying to succeed in, maybe because most people aren’t aware of what it all entails, maybe they will appreciate the accomplishment more, albeit from a distance.  There are only FIVE people who know about the amount of work I’ve put into this. Five know about the long, lonely hours, the embarrassments, the struggles and the walks of shame.  I suspect that those five will be my biggest cheerleaders when I do succeed.
On second thought, that number of cheerleaders might only be four.
In closing, there is this girl I like.  Lately I’ve noticed she is talking to other guys, which is totally fine. But when I take a closer look at these guys, right away the insecurity sets in (most comics have insecurity so right there I feel like this was a good path to take).  I feel inadequate.  I feel like a failure, partly because I have never been told by her that I am valued or appreciated by her.  These guys are better looking (which isn’t hard to accomplish), and they have careers, the type of guy a mother would always love, so I can see why they would have her interest.
But I am Trevor Dean.  I’m Saskatoon comedy’s version of The Little Engine That Could.  Doesn’t that count for something?
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