Does The Anniversary Cake Come With Its Own Itch?

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The date is fast approaching.  Most of you may not care and probably don’t understand the significance of it.   It’s an anniversary that I am proud of, because every year I move forward in continuation of my career, my dream, the opposition grows.  They may stay silent, unlike before when hate filled and ignorant comments flooded my blog from phony e-mail addresses, but there is a minority of haters out there.  Maybe haters isn’t the right word to use.  They’re more like cowards, chickenshit, or scared.

The date is October 4, 2011.  That’s the seven year anniversary of entering the world of stand-up comedy. There is no seven year itch, however.  Like a marriage, I’m in it for better or for worse, and those of you who follow me know there has been way more of the worse to navigate through than the better.

I once heard a pastor give a real good definition of what a dream is.

a dream is nothing but a thought you have, asking for its permission to live

I used to think that doing stand-up comedy just came to me on a whim that night watching a newbie eat it on stage, and telling myself that I had the basic God given skills to be able to pull this off.  But the more I pursued it, the more that I struggled, the more that opposition came against me, the more I dug my heels in, surrounded myself with people outside of comedy to support me and started to get better as a result.

It’s sad to think that the only two people who have helped me in comedy don’t reside in the city, let alone the province.  In fact, one is in Alberta and the other is in Los Angeles, and I’ve been taken to task for associating with both.

Now, I sit here, on the impending eve of my anniversary, with no paid gigs in sight.  No return trip to Los Angeles planned, or Oakland for the comedy competition to redeem myself.  No family support (then again, who needs them when I have my church family), no girlfriend either.  I feel like at times I don’t have anybody really close to me, I mean close, to talk to, to run ideas past.  No cheerleader in my corner, just the four walls that surround me every time I come home from work or from an open mic.  The walls never talk back, nor do they ever seem to agree with me.  In fact, I’m not sure the walls are much of a listener either.  The walls absorb my words and my thoughts, containing them within this dwelling I’ve been fortunate to call home for the past five years.

At times I feel like I should get up on my soapbox and tell the comedy community “hey, I’m still here.  I’m over here!  Please pick me for your next fundraiser!  Please consider me to be your next host.”  Then I am snapped back to reality rather quickly when I realize nobody would care enough to include me in anything that isn’t an open mic.  Lots of talk, lots of ideas, but no action.

I should probably feel sad about it, but instead I’m just disappointed.  I have learned to live with the disappointment over the years, and it’s something I should always be aware of, not to rely on anyone too much.  I wish things were different, but they aren’t, and I am not sure they will ever change.  But, with my new job and having an employer, managers and fellow employees that are both happy and thankful for having me around, it puts things into perspective for me and makes my lack of success in comedy seem a bit trivial at times.

My anniversary will probably pass with little fanfare, if any, and probably I shouldn’t expect anything more.

Happy anniversary, to me.


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