God Must Be A BlackJack Dealer
Tags: The Stand-Up DiariesThis week hasn’t been fun for a lot of people. My girlfriend lost her father suddenly last Friday. Today was the service. Instead of being thankful for my family still being alive it’s left me somewhat angry and bitter towards my own family. By the way, I’d like to expand on the idea of how I think God is a blackjack dealer, but I think I’ve just found the subject for some new material so I will leave that one alone for a while.
My girlfriends family is the essence of what it means to be family. Her extended family includes cousins, aunts and uncles from both her dads and moms side. They all interact with each other. There are three distinct things you can take away from her family gatherings.
- Lots of food. Holy cow. If you go to a family gathering you are going to get fed.
- Laughing. Lots of laughing, telling stories of old.
- Everybody gets along and supports one another unconditionally.
No matter who you talk to in her extended family, they take an interest in who you are and in what you’re about. During my first shows at the pro comedy club last November, she got her parents and relatives out to watch me on nights when I was shaking and literally shitting my pants on stage, when I struggled to get laughs. A family gathering is loud because of so many people talking and laughing. It makes a person feel wanted and loved.
Or if you are me, it makes a person feel angry and bitter. Why? Well, I guess you haven’t met my family yet.
My family, what can I tell you about them? They think that people who go to church are hypocrites. They think people that go to karaoke bars all the time are losers. My close friend Earle Mireau (who is since passed away) started Equal Justice For All out of his personal circumstances. He lived on social assistance while helping people for free in fights with their landlords. My parents automatically figured if a person is able to work they should be able to get a job and get paid for it. The fact that Earle had personal circumstances the prevented him from getting paid didn’t matter. To them, Earle was a loser because he was on social assistance. His story didn’t matter. His circumstances didn’t matter.
My family is the exact opposite of my girlfriends, and for that I am ashamed, disappointed, hurt and oh yeah you can’t forget about the angry and bitter that I talked about before, right?
My step aunt drove our once close knit family apart. It’s now just the four of us. My mom, dad, brother and myself. While they are still all alive, that’s about the only thing to be thankful for from a family standpoint. I will still get to go to my mom’s birthday on Sunday, or visit the house any other day and tell them about comedy shows they don’t give a shit about. I can tell them about church services they have no interest in attending. They don’t ask about the most diverse and amazing group of friends a person could ask for, because let’s remember now, they think people who go to karaoke bars alot are losers. Instead my brother gets to talk about his one friend and his dog, all the time. They are interested in it. With his discussions about his life they don’t jump to conclusions. Shit, they don’t even tell him anything about my life, which is odd considering the fact that my brother works with my dad, and that mom and dad look after his dog the occasional time. You think they would tell him I do comedy, but nope. Three years in it was news to him when I told him.
My girlfriends family would never be that way. They would actually be proud of what members of their extended family do. Now, you might ask yourself why I would talk about my family like this? They don’t care. They don’t give a shit about my comedy or the fact I have a blog. They only care that I have a job and a place to live. That’s it. Just ask my girlfriend. She once asked me how come I let my mother talk to me the way that she does. My mom likes to take shots at me from time to time. I guess it’s been going on for so long that I consider it normal.
In a few days I will post the first guest editorial to my blog, this one being from Charmaine Panko, the wife of Dez Reed. Without giving anything away of its content, I will draw your attention to the one paragraph that stood out the most for me when I first read it.
I have been reading Trevor’s blog from the beginning and I marvel at how “easy” it appears. It reads like Trevor must just sit down periodically and muse about his day or current life circumstances.
I would like to unpack that for a minute. Writing this isn’t as easy as it looks, although I can tell you the time I write most of my posts are usually around 9:00 p.m. or later. That’s when I do my best writing I suppose because I’m alone. I live by myself. I don’t have anybody waiting at home for me. Sure, I can call or get a hold of my girlfriend almost anytime and that is a comforting thought to a degree, but still, at the end of the day I have nobody to come home to, to talk about a bad show. I come home to an empty house. By the time I get home my girlfriend is usually in bed because my parents always said that normal people who get up to go to work in the morning get to bed at a normal time. So if I had a bad night I would still have to stew over it and sleep on the embarrassment and frustration of the night before she could reply in the morning. I am not giving her shit for being responsible. I’m sure if we lived together that she would wait up for me or at least ask how things went when she knew I was home.
It’s pretty fucking disappointing and sad when your family doesn’t care. Like I said, the only difference when they depart from this Earth will be that they won’t be around to not care, to not ask. That’s it.
So, ladies and gentleman, please do me a favour. When life kicks someone you love squarely in the teeth please find a way to be there for that person. Don’t ever let that person go through the dark moments of life alone. We were not created for that. If anything, love and support one another. Love one another the way Jesus loved those around him, with unending love and compassion. The love of God and of His only son are on full display every family gathering that my girlfriend has. Every single time. Without fail. Due to her extended family going to church, regardless of their religion, they understand beyond a shadow of a doubt of the love of Jesus, and that as believers, as the ones who inhabit this Earth, it is up to us as individuals and collectively to spread that love throughout the world to everyone we meet. Everyone.
Don’t hate me because I have a comedy coach. It’s funny, the people who bash me for it have never asked me questions about what he teaches, ever. All I get told is that I should quit because nobody can learn comedy. Let’s learn to be supportive of one another. Every comedian knows that getting on stage and telling jokes is one of the most difficult things to do, something that most people are scared to do. But we choose to do it. We make a collective choice to get on stage and try it. It is within us trying that we should be commended for by other comics. There needs to be more collaboration with other comics to write and critique each others material, because once God calls your number and it’s game over, you don’t get that time back here on Earth. You die carrying with you all of your unfulfilled potential, problems and regrets. If you don’t understand something, ask questions instead of assuming the worst in people, because if you throw your fellow comics under the bus like that, or like anyone else for that matter, you are acting just like my parents, and that’s a fucking crying shame.
God did not create us to live like that. Don’t stoop to the level of my family. Rise above it, and make a difference in the lives of those you love. I tried for years, and a while ago I was smart enough to realize that I shouldn’t try anymore. So I don’t. My family gatherings are small and without meaningful conversation. All the prayer in the world won’t change that sad fact. Go and live your lives better than that. Be a shining example for others to follow.
It’s been a long week of getting four hours of sleep a night and being physically stressed. It’s time for bed.
Goodnight.