I was thinking this fondly earlier:
I once did a shitty set at this one comedy club that was having tryouts or whatever. I don't recall the name of the club. It was the one that Rodney Dangerfield started.
Comedy clubs are not my format. They never were. I tried a few and I sucked at all of them. It's time to pronounce it not your...format...
But I was in New York and I figured it was the thing to do. So I stood in line in the freezing cold in January for three hours and got my number, and was lucky enough to get a spot.
Come performance night, I didn't follow the rules. I had a written setlist that I made no secret of. Apparently this is against the rules. I use a setlist...that is clearly visible to anyone interested in such a thing. My audience often finds it useful that I know what I'm talking about now.
Yeah, so it didn't go so well and I just ended up creeping everybody out.
For anyone who may be considering going into standup, I will say not to be discouraged if you don't do well at a comedy club. A comedy club has one function: To sell drinks. You had better keep those people's mouths open long enough for the waitresses to dump drinks down their throats. And by the way, keep your thoughts to yourself or you don't get called back next week. That's how it is there.
One of the coolest scenes in New York was in the cellar of this one shithole bar where the owner wouldn't charge you anything to use it because it stunk of beer and piss.
It was some guy with a mike and a stage and some people telling jokes and hanging out and drinking beer. I performed there a couple times. Comedy happened there. And because comedy happened there, everyone was funny. And everyone laughed. We did...shit...jokes. We did meta jokes. And we had a great time. But I'm pretty much a recluse, so I quit going. It takes a lot of...emotional capital...to go out sometimes.
So go somewhere where the comedy happens.
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I remember at this comedy club that had the tryouts, they have a wall with a bunch of photographs of comedians. Some whose shtick was a smash for about five seconds...and others who had become enormous monsters.
I say this for no particular reason...and I hope it's not received embarassingly...
I saw Adam Sandler's photo on the wall. He was in his early twenties. All I could whisper was, "You are so beautiful." That was one great photo.
I really liked that "Punch-Drunk Love" movie. It was very creepy. And funny, in a very muted way. It was an elegant film really.
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There were parts of New York that I really liked. I would go to Central Park around --What? What is it? 59th street?-- and sit and look at people and drink a water.
I worked as a cable man in fine hotels --I had to quit because I knew that it just...would not do...to be working at these hotels knowing the kind of material I wanted to be doing. So it was time to move back to Vermont.
But in New York I worked a job that I was very good at. As a result, I rarely had to do anything. So I would roam around Manhattan and look beautiful and brooding.
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Enough of this thread.
